Camping and Woodcraft Volumes 1 2 Horace Kephart 1957

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BY HORACE KEPHART
OUR SOUTHERN HIGHLANDERS

THE BOOK OF CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
SPORTING FIREARMS
CAMP COOKERY
CAMPING
CAMPING
AND
WOODCRAFT
A- HANDBOOK FOR VACATION CAMPERS
AND FOR
TRAVELERS IN THE WÎLDERNESS
BY
HORACE KEPHART
Aiuthor of *'Our Southern Highlanders," "Sporting
Firearms," "Camp Cookery," etc.
AMKIICAN CAMPING ASSOCIATION

^' "^ÂINING COMMITTEK
:.R'
2116 NORTH S8th STHEBT
PHILADELPfllA 31, PA.
Two Volumes in One

Vol. I
CAMPING
Nm fork
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1957
*
7^^
COPTHIQHT, 1917,
By the MACMILLAN COMPANlf
New Edition
Two Volumes in One, 1921
Eighteenth Printing, 1957
All rights reserved —

no part of this book may be
reproduced in any form without permission m
writing
from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes
to quote brief passages in connection with a review
written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper.
Printed m the United States of America

To
THE SHADE OF NESSMUK
IN THE
HAPPY HUNTING GROUND
7'p- 629()0
PREFACE
The present work is based upon my Book of
Camping and Woodcraft, which appeared in igo6.
All of the original material here retained has been
revised, and so much new matter has been added
that this is virtually a new work, filling two
volumes instead of one.
My first book was intended as a pocket manual
for those who travel where there are no roads and
who perforce must go light. I took little thought
of the fast-growing multitude who go to more ac-
cessible places and camp out just for the pleasure
and healthfulness of open-air life. It had seemed
to me that outfitting a party for fixed camp wîthiri
reach of wagons was so simple that nobody would
want advice about it. But I have learned that
such matters are not so easy to the multitude as I
had assumed; and there are, to be sure, " wrinkles,"
plenty of them, in equipping and managing sta-
tionary camps that save trouble, annoyance, or ex-
pense. Consequently I am adding several chap-
ters expressly for that class of campers, and I treat
the matter of outfitting much more fully than be-
fore.
It not to be supposed that experienced travelers
is
wîll agree with me all around in matters of equip-

ment. Every old camper has his own notions about
such things, and all of us are apt to be a bit dog-
matic. As Richard Harding Davis says, " The
same article that the most essential
one declares is
to his comfort, health, and happiness is the very
first thing that another will throw into the trail.
A man's outfit is a matter which seems to touch his

private honor. I have heard veterans sitting
PREFACE
around a camp-fire proclaim the superiority of their
kits with a jealousy, loyalty, and enthusiasm they
would not exhibit for the flesh of their flesh and
the bone of their bone. On a campaign you may
attack a man's courage, the flag he serves, the news-
paper for which he works, his intelligence, or his
camp manners, and he will Ignore you but If you ;
criticise his patent water-bottle he will fall upon

you with both fists."
Yet all of us who spend much time in the woods
are keen to learn about the other fellow's " kinks."
And field equipment is a most excellent hobby to
amuse one during the shut-in season. I know
nothing else that so restores the buoyant optimism
of youth as overhauling one's kit and planning trips
for the next vacation. Solomon himself knew the
heart of man no better than that fine old sportsman
who said to me *' It isn't the fellow who's catching
lots of fish and shooting plenty of game that's hav-
ing the good time: it's the chap who's getting ready
to do it."
I must thank the public for the favor It showed
my Book of Camping and Woodcraft, which passed,
with slight revision, through seven editions in ten
years. For a long time I have wished to expand the
work and bring it up to date. As there is a well-
defined boundary between the two subjects of camp-
ing and woodcraft. It has seemed best to devote a
separate volume to each. The first of these is here
offered, to be followed as soon as practicable by the
other, which will deal chiefly with such shifts and
expedients as are learned or practised in the wilder-
ness where we have nothing to choose from
itself,
but the raw materials that lie around us.

Acknowledgments are due to the D. T. Aber-
cromble Co., New York, the Abercromble & Fitch
Co., New York, and the New York Sporting Goods
Co., for permission to reproduce certain illustrations
of tents and other equipment.
This book had its origin in a series of articles
PREFACE
under the same title that I contributed, in 1904-
1906, to the magazine Field and Stream. Other
sections have been published, in whole or in part, in
Sports Afield, Recreation, Forest and Strs'am, and
Outing. A great deal of the work here appears for
the first time.
Manyof these pages were written in the wilder-
ness,where there were abundant facilities for test-
ing the value of suggestions that were outside the
range of my previous experience. In this connec-
tion must acknowledge indebtedness to a scrap-
I
book full of notes and clippings from sportsmen's
journals which was one of the most valued tomes
in the rather select " library " that graced half a
soap-box in one corner of my cabin.
I owe much both to the spirit and the letter of
that classic in the literature of outdoor life, the lit-
tle book on Woodcraft, by the late George R. Sears,
who is best known by his Indian-given title of
''
Nessmuk." To me, in a peculiar sense, it has
been rermdium utriusque fortunce; and it is but
fitting that Ishould dedicate to the memory of its
author this pendant to his work.

Horace Kephart.
Bryson City, N. C,
February, 19 16.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGi.
I Vacation Time 17
II Outfitting 23
III Tents for Fixed Camps 29 ...
IV Furniture, Tools, and Utensils
FOR Fixed Camps -53 . . .
V Tents for Shifting Camps 68 . .
VI Types of Light Tents 76 , . .
VII Light Camp Equipment 109 ^ . .
VIII Camp Bedding 124

IX Clothing . . . . • . .138
X Personal Kits 164
XI Provisions 178
XII Camp Making 208
XIII The Camp-fire 225
XIV Pests of the Woods .241 . . .
XV Dressing and Keeping Game and

Fish 264
XVI Camp Cookery Meats — . . . 290
XVII Camp Cookery Game — . . . 305
XVIII Camp Cookery Fish — and
Shellfish 321
XIX Camp Cookery — Cured Meats,
ETC. — Eggs 332
XX Camp Cookery — Breadstuffs
AND Cereals 342
XXI Camp Cookery — Vegetables —
Soups 363
XXII Beverages and Desserts . . .378
XXIII Cook's Miscellany .... 386
Index . . -. 395
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Wall Tent with Fly ",9
Extension Fly 36
Tropica' Tent 37
Bobbinet Window 39
Mosquito Curtain 39
Asbestos Pipe Guard 40
Locating Corner of the Tent 42
Tent Stake and Guy Rope 43
U. S. Army Wall Tent with Fly (Officers' Ten:) 4s
Storm Set 45
Wall Tent on Shears with Guy Frame ... 46
Lashing for Shear Legs 47
Shear Legs Spread 47
Magnus Hitch (not apt to slip along a pole) .
47
Wall Tent with Side Bars 48
Trenching Tent 49
Tent Floor 50
Guys Weighted with Log 51
Guy Rope Fastened to Fagot to Be Burled i 1
Ground 51
Narrow Cot 54
Compact Cot 54
Telescoping Cot 54
Cot with Mosquito Screen 54
Folding Chair 56
Folding Arm Chair 56
Roll-up Table 56
Roll-up Table Top 56
Table with Shelf 57
Compact Table 57
Folding Shelves 57
Wall Pocket 57
Small Camp Stove 61
Stove Packed 61
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Stove for Large Wood 6i
Field Range 62
Field Range (packed) 62
Dutch Oven 64
U. S. A. Conical Tent 78
Sibley Tent Stoves 79
Miner's Tent 83
Frazer Tent 8»
Marquee 83
George Tent 84
Layout of George Tent 85
Royce Tent . 87
Royce Tent 89
Royce Tent 90
Wedge Tent, Outside Ridge Rope 92
Pegging Bottom of Tent 92
Side Parrels ... .
93
Whymper Alpine Tent 95
Hudson Bay Tent 95
Ross Alpine Tent 96
Separable Shelter Tent 96
Shelter half with Wall 97
Tarpaulin Tent 98
Baker Tent 99
Camp-fire Tent 100
Canoe Tent with Pole 102
Canoe Tent with Ridge 102
Compac Tent 104
Snow Tent 105
Explorer's Tent 106
LittleGiant Scale 115
Cooking Pot 119
Pot Chain 119
Coffee Pot 119
Miner's Coffee Pot 119
Cup 120
Miller Frying Pan 120
Reflector (angular back) 121
Reflector (fiat back) 121
lR^&actr>r rfolded in case) 121
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Sheet Steel Oven 122
D. T. Abercrombie Sleeping Bag 130
Flala Sleeping Bag 131
U. S. A. Regulation Sleeping Bag 136
Shattuck Camp Roll 136
Comfort Sleeping Pocket 137
Combination Bed Roll, Stretcher Bed and Bed Tick . 137
Combination as Stretcher Bed 137
Combination as Hammock 137
Combination as Bed Roll 137
Neckerchief Folded for Hood 143
Neckerchief Hood Adjusted 143
U. So Army Canvas Legging 145
Canvas Strap Puttee 145
Woolen Spiral Puttee 145
True Bow Knot 151
Reef Knot Formed 151
Reef Knot Drawn Tight 151
U. S. Army Shoe 152
Sole ofArmy Shoe, Showing Proper Method of
Placing Hobnails 152
Soled Moccasin (made over last) 159
Dunnage Bag 164
Kit or Provision Pack 164
Screw Hook Fastening for Box Lid 164
Hatchet 166
Sheath Knife 167
Compass with Course Arrow 169
Map Case 171
U. S. A. Dispatch Case 171
To Fold Triangular Bandage . . . . . . . 175
Rare Natural Crotch 219
Common Crotch 219
To Make a Crutch 219
Spring Box , 221
Latrine 223
Indian Deer Pack . 268
The Place to Use Your Knife 270
—
CAMPING
CHAPTER I
VACATION TIME
" So priketh
hem Nature in hir corages,
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmares for to seken straunge strondes."
— Canterbury Tales.
To many a city man there comes a time when the

o'reat town wearies him. He hates its sights and
smells and clangor. Every duty is a task and every
caller is a bore. There come visions of green fields
and far-rolling hills, of tall forests and cool, swift-
flowing streams. Pie yearns for the thrill of the
chase, for the keen-eyed silent stalking; or, rod in
hand, he would seek that mysterious pool where the
father of all trout lurks for his lure.
To be free, unbeholden, irresponsible for tha
nonce 1* ree to go or come at one's own sweet will,
!
to tarry where he lists, to do this, or do that, or do

nothing, as the humor veers; and for the hours,
"
"It shall be what o'clock I say it is!
Thus basking and sporting in the great clean out--

of-doors, one could, for the blessed interval,
" Forget six counties overhung with smoke,

Forget the snorting stearr and piston-strokt,
Forget the spreading of ^he hid'ôus town,"
T7
i8 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
This instinct for a free life In the open is as
natural and wholesome as the gratification of hunger
and thirst and love, it is Nature's recall to the
simple mode of existence that she Intended us for*
Our modern life in cities is an abrupt and violent
change from what the race has been bred to these
many thousands of years. We come from a line
of forebears who, back to a far-distant past, were
hunters in the forest, herdsmen on the plains, shep-
herds In the hills, tillers of the soil, or fishermen or
sailors at sea; and however adaptive the human
mind may be, these human bodies of ours still stub-
bornly insist on obeying the same laws that Father
Adam's did.
There are soothsayers who forecast that, in the
course of evolution, we shall conform to what are
now abnormal and mischievous conditions ; that man
isthe most adaptive of all creatures, accommodating
himself to greater extremes of temperature and so
forth than any other of the higher animals; that
moreover he is constantly inventing machines and
processes to better his condition, so that we may
reasonably expect him to make even the crowded city
a wholesome place of residence, though people dwell
tier above tier, and our old-fashioned domestic life
be quite out of the question.
It may be so. We can fix no bounds to Nature's
conforming power. She has produced certain verte-
brates, such as the mud-turtle and the hellbender,
so eminently adaptive to circumstances that they are
equally at hr^me whether immersed in air, water, or
mud. Ana there is the Chinaman, who, being of a
breed that has been crowded and coerced for thou-
sands of years, seems to have done away with nerves.
" He will stand all day in one position without seem-
ing In the least distressed he thrives amidst the most
;
unsanitary surroundings; overcrowding and bad air

are nothing to him he does not demand quiet when
;
he would sleep, nor even when he Is sick he can ;
starve to death with supreme complacency." A

VACATION TIME 19
missionary says: " It would be easy to raise in
China an army of a million men —

nay, of ten mil-
lions— tested by competitive examination as to their
capacity to go to sleep across three wheelbarrows,
with head downwards like a spider, mouth wide
open, and a fly inside."
Some of our own people seem to get no satisfac^
tion out of anything but chasing after dollars with-
out let-up from year to year, save when they are
asleep, or in church, or both. We
recall a certain
rich man who boasted that in the eighty-eight years
of his career he had not once taken a vacation or
wanted one. Naturally his way was the right way,
and he proceeded to show it. " What right," asked
he, " has a clerk to demand or expect pay for two
weeks' time for which he renders no equivalent? Is
it not absurd to suppose that a man who can work
eleven and a half months cannot as wtU work the

whole year ? The doctors may recommend a change
of air when he's sick; but why be sick? Sickness is
an irreparable loss of time." I am not misquoting
this very rich man: his signed pronouncement lies
before me — the sorriest thing that ever I saw in
9rint.
Seriously, good for men and women and chil-
is it
dren to swarm together in cities and stay there, keep

staying there, till their instincts are so far perverted
that they lose all taste for their natural element, the
wide world out-of-doors? In any case, although
evolution be a very great and good law, yet is it not
a trifle slow? How about you and me? Can we
wait a few thousand years for fulfilment of the wise
(men's prophecy? We
are neither coolies, nor mud-
turtles, nor those other things with the awful name.
Granting, then, that one deserves relief now and
then from the hurry and worry that would age him
before his prime, why not go in for a complete
change while you are about it? Why not exorcise
the devil of business and everything that suggests it?
The best vacation an over-civilized man can have if
20 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
ô go where he can hunt, capture, and cook his own
meat, erect his own shelter, do his own chores, and
so, in some measure, pick up again those lost arts of
wildcraft that were our heritage through ages past,
but of which not one modern man in a hundred
knows anything at all. In cities our tasks are so
highly specialized, and so many thi \gs are done for
us by other specialists, that we tend \o become a one-
handed and one-idead race. The self-dependent life
of the wilderness nomad brings bodily habits and
mental processes back to normal, by exercise of
muscles and lobes that otheiwise might atrophy from
want of use.
would realize in its perfection his dream of
If one
peace and freedom from every worldly care» let him
keep away from summer resorts and even from
farms; let him camp out; and let it be the real
thing. There are "'
camps " so-called that are not
camps at all. A rustic cottage furnished with tables
and chairs and beds brought from town, with rugs
on the floor and pictures on the walls, with a stove in
the kitchen and crockery in the pantry, an ice-house
hard by, and daily delivery of groceries, farm prod-
ucts, and mails, may be a pleasant place in which to
spend the summer with one's family and friends;
but it Is not a camp. Neither is a wilderness club-
house, built on a game preserve, looked after by a
caretaker, and supplied during the season with
servants and the appurtenances of a good hotel.
Acamp proper is a nomad's biding-place. He
may occupy it for a season, or only for a single night,
according as the site and its surroundings please or
do not please the wanderer's whim. If the fish do
not bite, or the game has moved away, or unpleas-
ant neighbors should intrude, or if anything else
goes wrong. It is but an hour's work for him to pull
up stakes and be off, seeking that particularly good
place which generally lies beyond the horizon's
rim.
Your thoroughbred camper likes not the atten-.
VACATION TIÎE 21
lions of a landlord, nor will he suffer himself to be

rooted to the by cares of ownership or lease.
soil It
is not possession of the land, but of the landscape,
that he enjoys and as fo" that, all the wild parts of

;
the earth are his, by a title that carries with it no

obligation but that he shall not desecrate nor lay
them waste.
Houses, to such a one, in summer, are little better
than cages; fences and walls are his abomination;
plowed fields are only so many patches cf torn and
tormented earth. The sleek comeliness of pastures
is too prim and artificial, domestic cattle have a
meek and ignoble bearing, fields of grain are

monotonous to his eyes, which turn for relief to
some abandoned old-field, overgrown with thicket,
that harbors some of the shy children of the
still
wild. It is not the clearing but the unfenced wil-

derness that is the camper's real home. He is
brother to that good old friend of mine who, in
gentle satire of our formal gardens and close-cropped
lawns, was wont to say, " I love the unimproved
works of God." He likes to wander in the forest
tasting the raw sweets and pungencies that uncloyed
palates craved in the childhood of our race. To
him
" The shelter of a rock
Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world."
The charm of nomadic life freedom from

Is Its
care, its unrestrained liberty of action, and the proud

self-reliance of one who is absolutely his own mas-
ter, free to follow his bent in his own way, and
who cheerfully, in turn, suffers the penalties that
Nature upon him for every slip of mind or
visits
bungling of his hand. Carrying with him, as he
does, in a few small bundles, all that he needs to
provide food and shelter In any land, habited or un-
inhabited, the camper Is lord of himself and of his
surroundings.
" Free is the bird in the air,
And the fish where the river flows;
Free is the deer in the wood,
And the gipsy wherever he goes.
Hurrah!
And the gipsy wherever he goes."
There Is a dash of the gipsy In every one of Uk

who is worth his salt.
-
CHAPTER n
OUTFITTING
"By St. Nicholas
Ihave a sudden passion for the wild wood —
We should be free as air in the wild wood —
What say you ? Shall we go ? Your hands, your 'Hanrts'! ^
—
Robin hood.
In some of our large cities there are professional

whom one can go and say: " So many
outfitters to
of us wish to spend such a month in such a region,
hunting and fishing: equip us." The dealer w411
name a price; you pay it, and leave the rest to him.
When the time comes he will have the outfit ready
and packed. It will include everything needed foi
the trip, well selected and of the best materials.
When your party reaches the jumping-off place it
will be met by professional guides and packers, who
will take you to the best hunting grounds and fish-
ing waters, and will do all the hard work of pad-
dling, packing over portages, making camp, chop-
ping wood, cooking, and cleaning up, besides show-
ing you where the game and fish are " using,"
and how to get them. In this way a party of city
men who know nothing of woodcraft can spend a
season in the woods very comfortably, though get-
ting little practical knowledge of the wilderness^
This is touring, not campaigning. It is expensive;
but it may be worth the price to such as can afford
it, and who like that sort of thing.
But, aside from the expense of this kind of camp-
ing, it seems to me that whoever takes to the woods
and waters for recreation should learn how to shifr
23
for himself in an emergency. He may employ
guides and a cook — all that ; but the day of dis-
aster may come, the outfit may be destroyed, or the
city man may find himself some day alone, lost in
the forest, and compelled to meet the forces of
Nature in a struggle for his life. Then it may go
hard with him indeed if he be not only master of
himself, but of that woodcraft which holds the key
to Nature's storehouse. A
camper should know for
himself how to outfit, how to select and make a
camp, how to wield an axe and make proper fires,
how to cook, wash, mend, how to travel without
losing his course, or what to do when he has lost
it; how to trail, hunt, shoot, fish, dress game, man-
age boat or canoe, and how to extemporize such
makeshifts as may be needed in wilderness faring.
And he should know these things as he does the way
to his mouth. Then is he truly a woodsman, sure
to do promptly the right thing at the right time,
whatever befalls. Such a man has an honest pride
in his own resourcefulness, a sense of reserve force, a
doughty self-reliance that is good to feel. His is
the confidence of the lone sailorman, who whistles

as he puts his tiny bark out to sea.
And there are many of us who, through some mis-
cue of the Fates, are not rich enough to give carte
blanche orders over the counter. We
would like
silk tents, air mattresses, fiber packing cases, and all
"
that sort of thing; but we would soon " go broke
if we started in at that rate. I am saying nothing
about guns, rods, reels, and such-like, because they
are the things that every well conducted sportsman
goes broke on, anyway, as a matter of course. I am
speaking only of such purchases as might be thought

extravagant. And it is conceivable that some folks
might call it extravagant to pay thirty-five dollars
for a thing to sleep in when you lie out of doors on
the ground from choice, or thirty dollars for pots
and pans to cook with when you are '* playing hobo,''
as the unregenerate call our sjdvan sport. To
OUTFITTING 25
practiseshrewd economies in such things helps out
ifyou are caught slipping in through the back gate
with a brand-new gun, when everybody knows that
you already possess more guns than you can find
legitimate use for.
one begins, as he should, six months in advance,
If
to plan and prepare for his next summer or fall vaca-
tion, he can, by gradual and surreptitious hoarding,
get together a commendable camping equipment, and
nobody will notice the outlay. The best way is to
make many This gives your
of the things yourself.
pastime an air of thrift, and propitiates the Lares
and Penates by keeping you home o' nights. And
there is a world of solid comfort in having every-
thing fixed just to suit you. The only way to have
it so isdo the work yourself. One can weat
to
ready-made clothing, he can exist in ready-furnished
rooms, but a ready-made camping outfit is a delu-
sion and a snare. It is sure to be loaded with gim-
cracks that you have no use for, and to lack some-
thing that you will be miserable without.
It is great fun, in the long winter evenings, to
sort over your beloved duffel, to make and fit up the
little boxes and hold-alls in w'hich everything has
its proper place, to contrive new wrinkles that no-
body but yourself has the gigantic brain to conceive,
to concoct mysterious dopes that fill the house with
unsanctimonious smells, to fish around for materials,
\n odd corners where you have no business, and, gen-
erally, to set the female members of the household
buzzing around in curiosity, disapproval, and sundry
other states of mind.
To be sure, even though a man rigs up his own
outfit, he never gets it quite to suit him. Every sea-
son sees the downfall of some cherished scheme, the
failure of some fond contrivance. Every winter
sees you again fussing over your kit, altering this,
substituting that, and flogging your wits with the
same old problem of huw to save weight and bulk
without sacrifice of utility. All thoroughbred camp-
ers do this as regularly as the
birds come back in
^h^/^^^^"d has been doing it since the
wnrll'l.'
^^ orld began It is good for us. If some misguided
gemus should invent a camping
equipment that no-
body could find fault with, half our pleasure
life in
would be swept away.
This is not saying that outfitters'
catalogues shoula
be Ignored. Get them, by all means, and
study
them with care. Do this at
home, comparing one
catalogue with another, that you may know
just
what you want and what you don't
want, before
you go out to make purchases.
Then you will not
be such easy prey to the
plausible clerk, and your
selection will bear the stamp
of your individuality.
Ihe joys and sorrows of camp life,
and the pro-
portion of each to the other, depend
very much upon
how one chooses his companions
has_ any ^choice in the matter
—
granting that he
at all. It may be
noticed that old-timers are apt
to be a bit distant
when a novice betrays any eagerness to
share in their
pilgrimages. There is no churlishness in this"
rather it is commendable caution.
Not every good
tellow in town makes a pleasant
comrade in the
vvoods. So It IS that experienced campers are
chary
ot admitting new members to
their lodges
one of them you must be of the right
To be
stuff, ready to
endure trial and privation without a
murmur, and
— what IS harder for most men —
to put up with
petty inconveniences without grumbling.
For there is a seamy side to camp life,
as to every-
thing else. Even in the best of camps things do
happen sometimes that are enough to
make a saint
swear silently through his teeth. But no one is fit
for such life who cannot turn
ordinarv ill-luck into
a joke, and bear downright calamity
like a gentle-
man
Yet there are other qualities in a good camp-mate
that are rarer than fortitude and
endurance. Chief
of these is a love of Nature for her
own sake
the "put on" kind that expresses itself
not —
in gushy
OUTFITTING 27
sentimentalism, but that pure, intense, though

ordinarily mute affection which finds pleasure in
her companionship and needs none other. As Olive
Shreiner says: " It is not he who praises Nature,
but he who lies continually on her breast and is

satisfied, who is actually united to her." Donald G.
IMitchell once remarked that nobody should go to
the country with the expectation of deriving much
pleasure from it, as country, who has not a keen eye
for the things of the country, for scenery, or for
trees, or flowers, or some kind of culture ; to which
a New York editor replied that "
Of this not one
city man thousand has a particle in his compo-
in a
sition." No doubt a gross exaggeration but the ;
proportion of city men who do thoroughly enjoy the

hardy sports and adventures of the wilderness is cer-
tainly much larger than those who could be enter-
tained on a farm yet the elect of these, the ones
;
who can find plenty to interest them in the woods

when fishing and hunting fail, are not to be found
on every street corner.
If your party be made up of men êxperienced in
the woods, hire a guide, and, if there be more than
three of you, take along a cook as well. Treat youi
guide as one of yourselves. A good one deserves
such consideration a poor one is not worth having
;
at all. But if you cannot afford this expense, then

leave the real wilderness out of account for the pres-
ent go to some pleasant woodland, wîthin hail of
;
civilization, and start an experimental camp, spend-

ing a good part of your time in learning how to
wield an axe, how to build proper fires, how to cook
good meals out-of-doors, and so forth. Be sure to
get the privilege beforehand of cutting what wood
you will need. It is worth paying some wood-geld
that you may learn how to fell and hew. Here,
wîth fair fishing and some small game hunting, you
can have a jolly good time, and will be fitted for
something more ambitious the next season.
In any case, be sure to get together a company of
good-hearted, manly fellows, who will take things
as they come, do their fair share of the camp chores,
and agree to have no arguments before breakfast.
There are plenty of such men, steel-true and blade-
straight. Then will your trip be a lasting pleasure,
to be lived over time and again in after years.
There are no friendships like those that are made
under canvas and in the open field.
In the following pages I treat the matter of out-
fitting in detail, not that elaborate outfits are usually
desirable — for they are not — but because in town
there is so much to pick and choose from. There
are many patterns of this, that, and the other article
of equipment, some good for one kind of camping,
come for another. I try to explain their " points,"
^hat the reader may choose intelligently according
to his needs.
CHAPTER III
TENTS FOR FIXED CAMPS

When camp Is made in a certain locality with no
intention of moving it until the party is ready to
go home, it usually Is called a *' permanent camp."
This is a misuse of terms; for a camp of any kind
is only a temporary biding place.
*'
The camp and
not the soil," says Gibbon, " Is the native country
of the genuine Tartar." When speaking of a camp

fixed in one place for a considerable time, I shall
call it a fixed camp or stationary camp. It differs
from a shifting camp, so far as outfitting is con-
cerned, In permitting the use of heavy and bulk>
equipment and more of the comforts of home.
—
Wall Tents. For fixed camps, situated where
there are wagon roads or other adequate ways of
transportation, the best cloth shelter Is a wall tent,
rectangular or square, of strong and rather heavy
material.
Fig. I.— Wall Tent, with Fly
It Is a trade custom to list tents according to an

arbitrary scale of ground dimensions, In even feet,
although the cloth seldom works out exactly so for ;
ground dimensions art* governed by the number of

so CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
widths of cloth used and the number of inches to
the width, allowing for seams. To slit the cloth
lengthwise would destroy its strongest part, the
selvage, besides being a waste of material. More-
over, cloth stretches or shrinks in handling.
In the following table are given the trade sizeSj
actual ground dimensions (these may vary), stand-
ard heights of wall and center, and wêights of un-
proofed tents (without flies, poles, or stakes) in
sizescommonly used by campers. These sizes apply

only to tents made of standard 29-inch duck. li
36-inch stuff, or some other width, is used, propor-

tional allowances must be made.
STANDARD WALL TENTS.

29-lNCH Duck.
TENTS FOR FIXED CAMPS 31
A group of small tents around a common campflre

is quite as sociable as if the party were all bunked
together — except when not wanted^
sociability is
as when some wish to sleep and others want

to play
cards. Even a camper does not care to reduce his
individuality to a least common multiple.
Two small tents need not be made of so heavj*
material as a large one of cubic capacity equal to
both of them. They are easier to erect and man-
age. They are more adaptable to various camp
sites. Their short poles are handier to transport
(for that matter, jointed ones may be bought, up
to a limit of twelve feet total length). And small
tents are stancher in a gale than big ones.
Roominess is not to be estimated by ground di-
mensions alone. It depends much upon height of
center and walls. If a tent is to be used right on
the ground, not elevated over a floor with base-
boards, it should be made higher in center and walls
than the standard proportions given in the table.
This is not expensive: the charge is only five per
cent, of the cost of regular tent for each six inches
of added height.
To mynotion the best all-round size of wall tent
for two if weight and bulk and cost are of
people,
any consequence, is the so-called 9x9 or a 9x 12,
huilt with 3}^-foot walls, instead of 3-foot, and
8-foot center, instead of 7^-foot. For four per-
sons a 12x14 is commonly used; but a 14x14
with 4-foot walls and 9-foot center has double the
head-room of the standard 12x14, and 2j/^ feet
more space between cots, if these are set length-
wise of the tent, two on a side.
Before selecting a tent, consider the number of
people to occupy it, and their dunnage, and the furni-
ture. Then draw diagrams of floor and end ele-
vation, of various sizes, fitting in the cots, etc., ac-
cording to scale; so you can get just what you want
— no more, no less.
Tent Materials. — The conventional tent is
made of plain cotton duck. A single roof of such
material will shed rain, if the stuff is closely woven,
but only so long as it is stretched at a proper angle,
rather taut, and nothing touches it from the inside.
If so much as a finger-tip should be rubbed against
the under side of the roof, a leak would spring
there, due to capillary action. It is of little use to
draw the finger from the drip spot down to the tent
wall, for, although this runs the water off for a
time, fresh dripping will start on each side of the
line.
Nor is it possible to avoid slackness in a roof of
plain canvas during a wet spell of weather. Cloth
that not water-proofed will shrink a great deal
is
as soon as it gets wet hence the guy ropes must be

;
let out, and the roof allowed to sag, before the rain
zomes; otherwise the shrinkage of the canvas will
loosen your tent stakes, or even pull them all up
together, when down goes your house about your
ears!
For these reasons, a tent should either be water-
proofed, or should have a supplementary roof called,
a fly. These matters will be considered later.
Cotton duck comes in three geneial grades, known
as single filling, double filling, and army duck.
Single filling duck is made of coarse yarn, loosely
woven, and of an inferior grade of cotton. It is
suitable only for cheap tents that are not intended
for continuous use, and generally is a bad " bar-
gain " even then. It is weaker than the same weight
of the other grades and is poor stuff to shed water.
Double filling duck is of closer texture, better
fiber, and is equal to all but the hardest service.
For average summer camping It Is good enough.
Army duck Is the best grade made, of selected
cotton free from sizing, both warp and filling
doubled and twisted, closely woven, and free from
imperfections — if It comes up army standard.
to
It will outwear any other tent material of the same
weight, except flax (which I have not seen used
I'ENTS FOR blXKD CAIVIF5 33
in this country), and sheds water much better than
cheaper grades.
Khaki generally means simply duck or twill that
has been colored to the familiar leaf brown of hunt-
ing togs. It may be had in almost any grade, the
best, of course, being army tent khaki.
The strength and durability of duck depends
largely upon its weight per square foot. Standard
tent duck comes mweights of 8 ounces, 10 ounces,
12 ounce J, 4nd upwards, to the running yard of
material 29 inches wide (army duck, 283^ inches).
But other duck is made in 36-inch width, or wider.
The 36-inch stuff is about one-fourth lighter per
running yard than 29-inch duck in other words, its
;
" 8-ounce " weight is really about 6-ounce, it3

" lo-ounce " is 7^-ounce, its " 12-ounce " is 9-ounce
stuff, as compared with standard goods. Bear this
in mind when comparing qualities and prices of
tents by different makers. Some tent makers specify
in their catalogues which width is used others do
;
not. In case of doubt, get samples of cloth before

purchasing.
Since guys and beckets (loops for the pegs) gen-
erally are fitted only where there are seams, it fol-
lows that a tent made of wide duck is not so stanch
as one of standard widths. All things considered,

8-ounce army duck (28V2-inch) and lo-ounce
double filling standard (29-inch) are superior to
i2-ounce double filling of 36-inch width.
For fixed camps, nothing less than lo-ounce
standard duck for tents, and 8-ounce for flies, should
be used; 12-ounce for tents, and lo-ounce for flie*.,
is preferable, unless the tent be quite small and
portability Is a factor to be considered.

Tricks of the Trade. — Not all of them, by
any means; but a few tricks for the novice to look
out for if he is not sure of his tent maker.
Prices fluctuate, of course, with the cotton mar-
ket, at least in the better grades of duck. And yet,
in the same season we may notice considerable dif-
fereiice In prices for what is ostensibly the same
thing. There a legitimate margin of variation
is
in tent prices according to local cost of production;

but when " bargains " are offered, keep your weather
eye open. There are many different qualities of
duck in grades that nominally are alike all the —
way from honest clear cotton to weighted stuff that
is almc^t shoddy.
Atent may be stunted in height to deceive the
purchaser, since most buyers consider only the
ground dimensions. A
flattened roof and low walls
nican less head-room and greater danger of leakage.
V'ery ciieap tents may have worthless jute ropes, in-
stead of hemp or sisal, and their poles and stakes
may be defective.
Low prices generally go with Interior workman-
ship. Look out for single seams, chain stitching,
insufficient stay-pieces or reinforcements where the
chief strains come, and machine-clamped brass grom-
mets, that tear out easily, instead of galvanized iron
rings sewed in by hand.
High prices, on the contrary, may mean refine-
ments that ordinary campers do not need. Between
the two extremes there is wide room for choice.
For example, at the time of this writing, you can
get a new 9x9 wall tent of single filling duck
(29-inch), complete with fly, poles, stakes, and
For the best grade of
ropes, for as little as $11.50.
U. S. Army 9x9 officers' tent you would pay
^Si.50- Of course, the army tent is of far better
material than the cheap one, and it is higher at cen-
ter and walls, but a good part of the difference in
price Is due to hand sewing and hand workmanship
throughout. In the officers' model, even to finishing

every becket and door-string with a Matthew
Walker knot.
Wathri'Roof Tents. — A waterproof tent need?
no fly to shed rain ; but it should have eaves to carry
drip free from the walls, if there are any. It costs
less than a plain tent of equal quality with fly,
",
TENTS FOR FIXED CAivIT*^ 35
weighs less, bulks less when packed, does not mil-

dew, does not have to be dried out every time before
moving, and is easier to set up and manage than
one with a fly.
A prime advantage of the processed cloth is that
it does not shrink when rained on. This means a
lot of trouble saved. With a tent of ordinary can-
vas it is necessary to slacken guys before a rain, and
at night before turning in, lest the stakes be pulled
loose. Of course, if long guy ropes are used they
will shrink, and must be eased before a rain, even
though the tent itself be waterproof.
Waterproof materials, and home methods of
waterproofing tents, are discussed in Chapter V.
For heavy tents, such as we are now considering, my
own preference is either " green waterproof
(Willesden) duck or a cravenetted khaki. Both of
these are perfectly rainproof, in heavy and closelj^
woven stuffs; they are soft, and are not affected by
heat or cold.
Colored khaki or green, are restful
tents, either
to the eyes, blend pleasantly with their surround-
ings, and are not so likely as white ones to attract
the attention of unwelcome visitors, from insects to
tramps. They do not soil so easily as white can-
vas, and do not make shadow pictures of the inmates
by lantern light. Khaki or green is cooler under
the summer sun than white. It moderates the glare
for those who would sleep late or take a siesta (some
cannot sleep well in a white tent under a full moon)
and it does not light up so brilliantly as white can-
vas whenthe lightning flashes.
Tent Flies. —A fly is an auxiliary roof of can-
vas, to shed rain and to make the tent cooler.
Most tent flies are set tight on top of the regular
ridge pole. Abetter plan, when the camp is not to
be shifted for a good while, is to use t\vo ridge poles,
and so have a space between the fly and the ridge
for air to circulate through. In small tents, it is
handier to have a stout band on the :îdge of the
tent with strings by which it can be sus-
itself,
pended from an outside ridge pole that is cut in the

woods, this pole being set up on shears at each end.
This leaves the doorway unobstructed. Such a rig
permits the use of any sized fly, with only one ridge
pole (Fig. ii).
Many like to have the fly large enough to form a
7- or 8-foot canopy in front of the tent; but there
are disadvantages in this rig: it cuts off side en-
trance, andmakes the fly a sport of the winds.
it
A gust can get tremendous purchase under a pro^
Fig. 2. — Extension Fly
truding roof and is likely to send it sailing. Even

in moderate winds there will be a great slatting and
banging, just when one wants to drop off to sleep.
Generally it is best to have a spare fly, as I have
mentioned for the dining place, and erect a frame
in front of the tent over which this cloth can be
stretched for an awning (Fig. 2). In this case the
awning can be rigged as high as one wishes, and
will not be in the way ot entering the tent from one
side..
A fly large enough to project three or four feet
for shelter over the doorway is not objectionable;
in fact it is good thing, especially if made long
a
pnough to come almost to the ground at the sides.
Figure 3 shows one of Edgington's tropical tents
with such a fly (similar ones are made in this coun-
try). Note the liberal air-space between fly and
tent. The shelter outside the tent wâlls is useful
Fig- 3- — Tropical Tent

for baggage, dry wood, dogs, etc. Such a fly weighs
and costs about as much as the tent itself. For se-
set " should be used
''
curity in a wind, the storm
(Fig. lo).
Sod-Cloth. — If a tent not to be floored and
is
fitted with a base-board, should have a sod-cloth.

it
This is a strip of 8-ounce canvas, about 9 inches

wide, that is sewed all along the bottom edge of the
tent walls, both sides and ends (Fig. 16). When
the tent has been set up, this sod-cloth is turned in
on the floor and weighted down with poles or stones.
Its function is to keep out insects and draughts that
otherwise would enter through the numerous gaps
that are left between tent pegs. The bottom edge
of a tent is the worst possible place to get ventila-
tion from; one might as well seek to ventilate a
house through cracks in the floor. Banking the tent
inside with leaves and earth is a poor substitute for
a sod-cloth. It will not stay tight for an hour, and
the earth rots the canvas.
Ground-Sheet. — In a small tent that often is
shifted from place to place, a ground-sheet to cover

•iic floor and lap over the sod-cloth is a good thing
to keep the interior dry and secure against insects;
but in a fixed camp such a carpet is a nuisance. It
gets filthy,and it stays so. Bare earth is soon
trodden down hard so that it is easy to sweep and
keep clean. I have lived for months in an un-
floored cabin, and my partner and I had no trouble
to keep the earthen floor neat to the eye and more
sanitary than any carpet. If you want a floor in a
tent, build a real one of dressed boards brought along
for the purpose.
Vextilatiox. — " Nessmuk " used to rail at wall
tents and wedge tents because they were so fusty
and damp and cheerless. So they are when im-
properly built and carelessly managed. One's main
reason for camping out should be to get plenty of
fresh air and sunshine. It is not enough to have
good air in daytime. One-third of our time is
spent in bed. And yet it is common practice to
close the tent tight at night, especially if there are
any mosquitoes about. Consider. Who would
spend summer nights at home with no window
open ? Well, a tent closed up is less permeable to
air than the average house wîth windows down.
The notion that night air in the woods is ma-
larial or otherwise unwholesome is idiotic. It is
the best air there is. Still, you can't buy a wall
tent in America that has proper means of ventila-
tion, unless you have it built to order. Army tents
have ventilators, so-called, that are nothing but a
hole at each peak, four inches wnde and eight inches
long. A tent window, to be of any account, should
be not less than 12 x i8 inches.
Our best tent makers will fit one or more win-
dows in a tent wherever the owner wants them, at
from $1.00 to $2.50 each. The opening is covered
with fine-mesh bobbinet, taped around the edges
and crosswise, with a canvas storm flap that can be
raised or lowered from the inside (Fig. 4). more A
elaborate kind, that may be detached and rolled up
when the lent is folded, is made of copper mosquito
;
TENTS FOR FIXED CAMPS 39*
bar, and has a celluloid window that can be slipped

in when it rains.
In a tent of ordinary one such window at
size,
the rear, wîth the doorway
wide open in fair
left
weather, will make the place a cheerful and whole-
some abode instead of a fusty den.
—
Mosquito Bar. The doorway may be screened
by a sort of drop-curtain of bobbinet or cheesecloth
ordinary mosquito netting is too easily torn, and its
mesh is too open to exclude the smaller mosquitoes
and gnats. Bobbinet is expensive. The tent'
JL
Fig. 4. — Bobbinet Window Fig. 5. — Mosquito Curtain

maker will attach a cheesecloth front to a tent 9 to
14 feet wide for about $2.85.
—
Rear Door. For about the same price as a
window, and serving as well for ventilation, the
fent-maker will put an extra door in the rear end
of the tent, with cheesecloth screen. This is a bet-
ter arrangement for hot weather, and often con-
venient when there a driving rain or a contrary
is
wind ; but it reduces the space for wall-pockets,

shelves, etc.
Door Weights. — To do away with pegs at the
entrance, that you are apt to stumble over, tie a
short and rather heavy pole to the bottom of each
flap. This holds the door open when desired, and
''
closes it securely against dogs, varmints," and the
elements.
40 CAJViriiNG AND VVUUUUKAl'^r
•
Stove-pipe Hole.^-A simple tin protector for

this opening is an annoyance at night, for it scrapes
and skreeks when the canvas slats in the wind.
Tent-makers supply pipe shields of asbestos that are
quite safe, noiseless, and roll up nicely with the tent
when it is stored or en route. A
flap covers the opening when no
stove is in use (Fig. 6).
Tent Poles Pins. and —
Poles should be of ash, white pine,
or spruce, straight-grained and
free from defects. At each end
there should be a galvanized iro»*,
band to keep the pole from split-

Fig. 6. — Asbestos
. ,
Pipe Guard ^^"g- ^,

A
.
, /
wall tent requires stakes (un-
less a frame is built for the guys) about two feet
long, and becket pins about sixteen inches. Shorter
ones will not hold in loose or sandy soil. Wooden
ones do very wtW for stationary camps.
Care of Tents. —
Never except when unavoid-
able should a tent be rolled up when wet. Even if
it be only damp from dew, an unprocessed tent will
soon mildew if packed away in that state. The

parts that require most drying are where the ma-
terial is doubled, as at the seams and along the
edges: the bottom edge especially, and the sod-cloth,
are sure to rot if not thoroughly dried before stow-
ing away.
To protect the tent in transport, it should be
carried in a stout bag; otherwise it is likely to be
punctured.
Tent pins are to be carried in a bag of their own,
not only to save them from being lost, but also be-
cause their inevitable dampness when camp is struck
would rot the tent if they were rolled up with it.
To Menda Tear in Canvas. Cross-stitch —
it flat, using a sail needle and twine, and taking a
narrow hold on each side with one stitch, then a

wider hold with the next one, and so on alternately.
;

I'hen it will not tear again so easily as if narrow
stitches were takenall along, nor will it be likely to
ruck. Temporary repairs can be made with adhe-
sive plaster.
Second-hand Tents. — Second-hand army tents
that are in good, serviceable condition, having been
condemned for stains or other trifling defects, may
be bought cheaply from dealers who get them at
government auctions. These army tents are always
well designed and well made. Second-hand tents,
however, should not be bought without inspection
they may be mildewed or otherwise unserviceable.
—
Tent Rental. Some tent-makers and outfit-
ters have tents for rent. From a list at hand I copy
the following charges for wall tents: 10x12,
$2.00 first week, and half this for each succeeding
week; 12 x 14, $2.50 do.; 14X 16, $3.00 do.; flies,
half these prices. In some places 3 whole camp
equipment can be rented.
Pitching Wall Tents. —A
tent should stand
squared and taut and trim. This not only that
one's eyes may dwell with pride upon his camp, but
because a tent that is wrinkled and set askew will
not shed a downpour nor stand stanchly against a
gale.
In erecting any square or rectangular tent, the
first thing is to locate the corners, and from them
to determine where the corner guy stakes are to be
driven. Soldiers do this by measuring with the up-
right poles, but as the height of a common tent may
not bear the right relation to its spread, for this
purpose, a knotted string may be better.
Set up the tent in your yard at home and adjust
poles and guys until the angles of the wall are true
and the canvas is drawn smooth all around. To
square the corners, observe that a triangle the sides
of which are 3, 4 and 5 ft., or multiples of these,
forms a right angle.
Then take a stout fish-line, fasten a small peg at
one end, and drive this peg close into one corner of
42 CAMriNG AND WOODCRAFT
the tent (//, Fig. 7). Draw the line straight (gen-
tly, so as not to stretch it) to center of upright pole
{B) (if there be one) in the doorway; tie a knot

in it and then go on to the corner C, where it
there,
is knotted again. Drive a small peg at C, pass the
string around it, and on to the corner D, where an-
other knot is tied and peg driven. Then draw the
line diagonally back to A, and knot it. Cut the
line at the last knot, reel it up on its peg, and keep it
stowed with the tent for future use.
When the camp ground is reached, it is but the
work of a moment to peg out, with the knotted
A r\'
B. :i
D
Fig. 7. — Locating Corners of the Tent
String, first the triangle A CD and then, reversing,

EDC. You
then have located exactly the positions
of the four corners for your tent, and marked where
the uprights shall be set, and the tent is sure to
stand " square."
A wall tent is set up with inside or outside poles,
and its wall and fly are guyed out either to stakes
or to horizontal poles set up on posts. will con- We
sider these methods in turn.
Wall Tent on Inside Poles, Staked. — This
is the usual way of setting up a wall tent, with or
without a fly ; but it is not the best, except when
It necessary or expcch'ent to carry shop-made pole^
is
and stakes with the outfit, as in the case of an army,

or of a party traveling by wagon and frequently
moving camp.
Having chosen the best frontage, lay out the cor-
ners and end centers with cord and small pegs, as
described. Then drive the corner guy stakes diag-
onally outward from tent corners, slanting them as
shown in Fig. 8. If fly guys are to be looped over
them, as well as wall guys, the stakes should be long
enough to project well and still take firm hold in
the ground. (When striking a tent, do not work
Fig. 8. — Tent Stake and Guy Rope

the stakes forward and backward to loosen them,
but slip a looped rope over the notch and pull at
angle that stake was driven.) Corner stakes are
driven several feet away from tent, depending on
slope of roof, and two or three feet outward, fore
and aft, to make the guys draw diagonally.
Now unroll the tent and drag it away by the
ridge until it is laid out flat over the ground selected.
Insert ridge pole (rounded side up) inside the
tent, with its holes for the spindles (iron pins in
end of uprights) meeting the grommets or large eye-
lets at ends of tent ridge. Place uprights at front
and rear, at right angles to ridge, spindles inserted in
ridge pole and passing out through peak grommets.
If a fly is to be used, lay it out flat over the tent,
spindles passing through grommets as in the tent.
i If end guys are to be run out fore and aft, or the
storm set is used (Fig. lo), slip the loops of the
long guys over the spindles.
A
man at each end now takes hold of an upright,
and the two raise tent and fly together. Then one
or two men hold the tent in position while one or
two others guy out the corners (beginning on the
windward side) so that the tent will stand by itself.
See that the uprights stand truly perpendicular.
Tie up the door and peg down the corners of the
tent wall.
Guy out the sides to stakes, tightening or slack-
ening the ropes alternately with their slides until the
tent stands true and the guys draw evenly.
Stretch the fly similarly, making sure that it
touches the tent nowhere except at the ridge. It

should clear the eaves by at least 6 inches, preferably
9 or lo inches. This requires an extra set of stakes
driven outside the wall stakes, or a single set of long
stakes with double notches (army tents). In the
latter case there is not enough clearance for hot
weather, unless the fly ropes are propped up on
crotched sticks (see further under Action of Wind
ON Tents). A better method, without any stakes,
is described later.
Finish pegging down the tent wall ; or, If there is
a sod cloth, weight It down with flat rocks or poles,
which is a better rig, not only to exclude draughts
and Insects, but also because then the tent wall can
readily be clewed up to the eaves, In fine wxather, to
sun and air the Interior.
The tent now stands Gquare and taut all around
(Fig. 9), secure against all but heavy end winds.
. To brace it against end strain you could run a pair
»of long guys out fore and aft; but such a rig is a
never-ending source of wrath and objurgation. It
is forever in the way, prevents having the camp-fire
in front where you want it, and is sure to be run

into or tripped over by anyone who goes out of the
tent at night.
Fig. 9.— U. S. Array Wall Tent with Fly. (Officers' Tent)
Storm Set. — Better end braces are rigged with

a pair of long guy ropes each of which has a loop
in the middle to go over the upright spindle and a
regulating lashing at each end. These may be made
fast to corner stakes set diagonally outward from
Fig. 10. — Storm Set
the tent corners, as with army hospital tents; but a

better plan is w^hat I call the storm set (Fig. 10), in
which the ropes are carried backward to the oppo-

site corners. The storm set leaves both ends of the
tent free from obstruction, takes less room, does not
tend to Dull apart a jointed ridge pole^ if such is
used, keeps the fly from " ballooning " when wind
gets under it, and is the most secure of all end braces
because the strain each way is met by ropes pulling,
over a triangle of wide base, directly back against
the wind.
In the illustration, the loop at middle of one guy
is slipped over the spindle A, one end is drawn back
to C and the other to the stake opposite C. Simi-

larly the other guy runs from B to D and E.
Wall Tent with Guy Frames. — Tent stakes
are troublesome t-hings at best. Generally when
you go to driving them you find stones or roots in
the way. They do not hold well except in favorable
Fig. II. — Wall Tent on Shears with Guy Frame

soiland in dry weather. When guy ropes get wet
they shrink and engage in a tug of war that loosens
the stakes.
If poles grow near the camp site i»: is more satis-
factory to drive four heavy crotched corner stakes
and lay a stiff pole across each pair of them at about
ihe height of the tent wall and parallel to its sides,
to which the guy ropes are made fast (see Fig. ii).
If a fly is used, lash a rather heavy pole to each
edge and drop these poles over the guy rods. Their
weight automatically keeps the fly taut at all times,
wet or dry.
—
Tent on Shears. Tent poles are bothersome
TENTS FOR FIXED CAMPS 47'
on the train and in a wagon, and impossible in a

canoe or on a pack train unless they are jointed.
Socketed poles become useless, or hard to refit, if a
ferrule is stepped on or otherwise dented. An up-
right pole in the doorway must be dodged every time
you go in or out. A
pair of shear legs at each end
of the tent, to support the ridge pole, is a stancher
set.
Cut four straight poles a couple of feet longer
than the distance from peak to corner of tent, and
a stiff stick for ridge pole about two feet longer than
Fig. 12. —
Lashing for Shear Legs.
(For Tent Shears it is not Neces-
sary to Take so many Turns)
Fig. —
13. Shea
Fig. 14. — Mag- Legs Spread
nus Hitch.
(Not Apt to
Slip Along a
Pole)
the tent. To bind the shear poles, lay a pair of

them side by side; with a small rope take several
turns around both poles near their upper ends, not
too tightly, then pass the ends of the rope one up
and the other down, to form a cross-lashing, and tie
them with a reef knot (Fig. 12). When the butts
of the shear legs are drawn apart the crossing of
the tips puts a strain on the knot and effectually se-
cures them (Fig. 13).
Having spread out the tent and inserted the ridge
pole (or tied it outside), raise tent with the shears,
and spread their legs until the tent just touches the
ground when ready to be pegged down (Fig. ii).
One man can raise a rather heavy tent in this way
by working first at one end and then at the other.
In the case of a wall tent wîth fly, erect side
frames for the guys (Fig. ii) but if no fly is used,
;
all that is needed is to lash side poles to the shears

and tie the eaves fast to them this is the best rig for
:
a small waterproof tent that is to be moved often

(Fig. 15)-
Sometimes the rear end of the ridge pole can be
lashed to a convenient sapling, or rested in the fork
of a limb. Some campers plant a single crotched
post at the rear, but usually it is easier to set up
shears than to find a suitable crotch and plant it
Fig. 15. — Wall Tent with Side Bars

firmly. It one advantage of shear legs that they
is
can be erected without diflficulty anywhere, although

the ground may be rocky or frozen.
This rig has several other merits. It leaves the
doonvay unobstructed. The legs do not sink so
much in soft soil or sand as single uprights; if they
should sink, they can be raised in a trice by drawing
the butts closer together. Similarly, when the tent
shrinks, from wetting, the strain can be eased by
simply lifting one shear leg and pushing it a little
farther outward. When the canvas sags, draw the
legs closer to their mates, and you stretch the tent
as taut as a drum-head.
An inside ridge pole is best for a large, heavy
.

tent; but it must be straight and smooth, or it will
wear the canvas and make it leak. Small or me-
dium-size tents are best made with a strongly rein-
forced outer ridge with cords by which the tent is
tied to an outside ridge pole (Fig. 11). In this
case the pole need not be so straight nor so care-
fully trimmed.
An outside ridge pole is excellent to keep a tent
fly clear allaround from the tent roof, permitting
a free circulation of air between the two, which
keeps the tent cool in summer.
Trenching the Tent. This should always —
be done if camp is not to be v
moved frequently. Do not dig ^ô
the ditch V-shaped, but cut ^^-^
straight down, just outside the
tent pegs and slope the trench
inward toward this dam (Fig.
16). Cast the dirt away never;
bank it against the tent, for it ^^^ .
v^ôuld quickly rot the canvas. ^ -£^^ !!^^^

Give the ditch a uniform slope ^^/^^^^^
toward
around the
the
, ,
lowest
tent. In the
Till
ground
shal-
^. ,
Fig. 16. — Trenching:
Xent
^^ ,
lowest places it need not be over

three inches deep. A trench that does not draia
well isworse than none.
—
Tent Floors. In fixed camp, especially if it is
in a sandy place, the tent should have a board floor.
Lay down the requisite number of 2" x 4" scantling
as floor-joists, setting them on flat rocks or posts if
necessary. (It is well to let the front and rear
joists project far enough for a guy-rope frame to be
nailed to them.) Plank them over with dressed
lumber. The edges should be dressed to match,",
tongued and grooved flooring is best.
If you have enough lumber, run a base-board
around the and rear. Inside the base-boards,
sides
at each corner, set up a 2" x 4" joist to height of tent
wall, and connect these corner posts at top by nar-^
50 CAMPING AND WOCTOCRAFl'
row boards, on the outside, corresponding to the
base-boards (Fig. 17).
Such a frame helps to hold the tent in shape.
The upper boards are convenient for hanging up
wall-pockets, guns, etc., where they are handy but
out of the way. , . 1 1
the tent-pin beckets over nails in the base-

Loop
boards: then the walls can be clewed up in warm
weather.
Before laying a floor the tent first should be set
up without it and accurate measurements taken (or
the measuring string previously mentioned may
be
used). If the floor is too small there will be en-
Fig, 17. — Tent Floor, with Wall Rail, Base-board, and

End Joists Projecting that Corner Stakes May Be Nailed
to Them
trance for draughts and Insects; If It projects, the

canvas will not fit over It, and rainwater will run In.
A portable tent floor may be made in sections
that bolt together. The sections should not be too
large to lie flat in a wagon box (for standard roads,
wagon boxes are usually 42 inches wide for narro\^ ;
tracks, 38 inches; length of box usually 10^ ft.).

Dimensions and number of sections will depend, of
course,upon size of tent.
Tlxts on Rocky or Sandy Ground. If the —
ground is too rocky to drive stakes in it, or is hard
frozen, erect the tent on shears and guy it out to
rocks or growing bushes.
Tent stakes do not hold well in sand or in ground
that has been soaked by rain. It Is customary, In
such cases, to attach the guys to a double row oi:
TEIS'IS FOR FIXED ^.lAMPS 51
stakes, one behind the other, or intcilocking at right
angles (one stake driven at a sharp angle toward
the tent, the other outward so that its notch engages
the head of the other stake, the two forming an in-
verted V, thus A).
An and more secure way is to lay a heavy
easier
pole over the guy ropes close to the stakes (Fig. 18),
and, if need be, weight it down with rocks, earth,
or sand-
In a very sandy place, where no log is to be found,
dig a small pit for each guy, tie the rope around a
fagot or to a bag of sand (Fig. 19), bury this, and
stamp the sand over it.
Fig. 18. — Guys Weighted —

Fig. 19. Guy Rope Fas-
with Log tened to Fagot to Be
Buried in Ground.
Action of —
Wind on Tents. Unless one en-
camps an open country the wind will seldom
in
strike his tent steadily in a direction parallel with
the ground. Rather it goes eddying and curling like
driven smoke: hence the flapping and slatting of the
fly-sheet.
During a squall a violent blow may fall straight
down upon the roof as chough bent on snapping the
poles; then, rebounding, it will try to carry the
tent away and aloft, as though your shelter wêre an
open umbrella. This action is often marked in
ravines and in a glade surrounded by tall trees, but
it may occur anywhere. The stanchest tents for
a very windysituation are those of conical or pyra-
midal form, set up on or under tripods.
A fly-sheet is a perfect wind trap, especially if It
orojects in the form of a porch, or is set well away
from the ridge of the tent. This is one reason why
I prefer a waterproofed tent without fly (except for
hot climates). If a porch is wanted, rig a sheet of
canvas over a separate frame in front of the tent;
I'hen, if it blows away, it will not wreck the tent too.
The flies of army tents, and of other patterns built
for hard and varied service, are guyed to double-
notched wall stakes, and so set rather close to the
roof (see Fig. 9).
v^ HAPTER IV
FURNITURE, TOOLS, AND UTEN-

SILS FOR FIXED CAMPS
When you go a-camping, make yourself as com-

fortable as you can. It is neither heroic nor sensi-
ble to put peas in your boots to mortify the flesh.
There is no comfort in toting a lot of baggage over
bad trails, but when there is a wagon to carry fold-
ing cots and camp chairs, take them along.
Pack your and some of the other things,
provisions,
in boxes that will serve for cupboards and cold-
storage in camp. Put some ready-cut shelf boards in
them, and leather for hinges. Make sure before-
hand that you can get enough lumber at your desti-
nation to make a dining table and benches.
Straw beds on the ground soon get fusty, and
they attract vermin. Fixed bunks in a tent harbor
dirt and dampness.
Cots. —For a bed in fixed camp, or wherever
transportation is adequate, choose a folding cot. It
iseasy to keep presentable. It makes a comfortable
lounge or settee, as well as a good bed. It can be
picked up bodily and carried out every morning to
sun and air, leaving the tent floor free for sweeping.
Wire-bottomed cots are too cumbersome for gen-
eral camping. Canvas stretcher-beds with frames
that fold compactly are the right things. I have
chosen four models for illustration.
Length.
Fig. 20. — Narrow Cot
Fig. 21. — Compact Cot
Fig. 22. — Telescoping Cot
Fig. 23. — Cot with Mosquito Screen

FURNITURE FOR FIXED CAMPS 55
The
first and fourth of these cots differ only in
size and weight. The second folds so compactly

that it can be stowed in a short chest or steamer
trunk. The third opens like a lazy-tongs, can be
set up in less than a minute, and is unusually high
and roomy for its weight.
The wider the cot, the more comfortable it will
be, especially in cold weather. On narrow
a very
cot the sleeper's body raises the covering free from
the bed on both sides, leaving gaps through which
cold air draws upward between mattress and blan-
ket, chiUing the sleeper, no matter how much cover-
ing he may
pile on. Sleeping-bags obviate this.
Thecotton pad mattresses made for camp cots are
needlessly bulky and heavy, hard to lie on, and hard
to keep dry in the moist forest air. Much better
is a foldedcomforter stuffed with wool instead of
cotton. It can be kept dry and sweet by hanging it
out in the sun like a blanket. Wool stays fluffy and
springy, but cotton batting mats down and gets
lumpy, besides retaining moisture.
To be secure against insect pests is as essential to
peace and comfort in camp as a dry roof overhead, if
not more so.
If the tent itself is not thoroughly screened
against flies and mosquitoes, then by all means get
from the outfitter a cot frame and netting (Fig. 23),
or, as a makeshift, rig for yourself a pyramidal
head-screen of netting or cheesecloth, to be hung
by a string above the bed, with the edges of three
sides tucked under the mattress after you turn in.
—
Camp Chairs. Folding stools without backs
•
are by no mean? comfortable. Far better is a chair

in which you can recline and rest the whole body.
The pattern show^n in Fig. 24 folds as easily as an
umbrella, to a size 3 ft. long by 3 in. square, and,
when opened, adjusts itself perfectly to the body. It
weighs 4^ pounds. A
larger size, high enough to
rest the head, weighs 6% pounds.
The armchair, Fig. 25, knocks down into six parts
which are carried in a bag, forming a package 29 x 6
in., that weighs 8 pounds. This is the Indian
" Rhorkee " chair, a favorite with old campaigners
the world over. With the addition of a foot-rest of
Fig, 24. — Folding Chair Fig. 25.—

Folding Arm Chair
«)me sort it makes a fairly comfortable bed. Caspai

Whitney and Richard Harding Davis consider it
the best camp chair made. Several of our sporting
goods houses carry it in stock.
Camp Tables. — A small table in the tent Is an-
Fig. 26. — Roll-up Table Fig. 27.—

Roll-up Table Top
other convenience that pays for its transportation.

The model shown in Fig. 26, with roll top, comes in
two sizes, 36x27 and 36x36 inches. It folds into
a package about 6 inches in diameter, and weighs
16 pounds. The top separately, weighing only 6

pounds, and costing but $1.25, can be set up on
forked stakes, as illustrated in Fig. 27.
The table shown in Fig. 29 folds into a package
only 27 inches long, and weighs 15 pounds.
Fig. 2S. — Table with Shelf Fig. 29. — Compact Table

A Stronger and more rigid table than either of
these has legs that cross in four directions (Fig. 28).
It may be bought either plain (16 pounds) or with
a folding shelf underneath (23 pounds). The top
is 36 X 27 inches ; size folded, 36x7x5 inches. By
an interlocking device, two or more of these tables
may be fastened together, for mess purposes.
^,
Shelves and Wall Pockets. —
To keep a tent
from being littered with small articles that are al-
ways in the way except when you want them and
can't find them, shelves or wall pockets, or both, are
well-nigh indispensable. These may be purchased
ready-made.
The camp cupboard here illustrated (Fig. 30) has
four shelves, each 10 x 30 inches, folds into a parcel
4x10x30 inches, and weighs 7 pounds. Other
sizes aremanufactured.
The
wall pocket (Fig. 31) is 30 x 36 inches, and
weighs 1 5^ pounds. Such things can easily be made
at home to suit individual requirements.
—
Clothes Hangers. There are various kinds of
tent-pole hooks for suspending clothing, a lantern,
and accoutrements. Such a contrivance is to be
clamped to the rear upright, or to the center pole,
depending on the kind of tent. Some are made of
leather or webbing so as to be adjustable to poles of
any size.
In any tent with a ridge pole two screw-eyes
should be put in at opposite ends from which to sus-
pend by cords a straight stick to hang clothes on.
This is especially handy for wet clothes on rainy
days.
Medical Kit. — About the best thing of this sort,
for average campers who do not have to go very
light, is the " Household (B) " first aid box fitted
up by the American National Red Cross, Washing-
ton, D. C. The case is of heavy tin, 10 x g]^ x 3^
inches, white enameled inside and out, and contains
rhe following articles:
I 2-oz. bottle Alcohol, 1 2-dram vial Oil of

I 2-oz. bottle Aromatic Cloves.
Spirits of Ammonia. i Bottle Soda Mint Tab-
1 2-oz. bottle Syrup of lets.
Ipecac. I Bottle Cascara Sagrada
I 2-oz. bottle Jamaica Tablets.
Ginger. 2 Iodine Containers.
1 2-oz. bottle Liniment, i Package A. R. C. Fin*
1 2-dram vial Olive Oil. ger Dressings (6)
1 Package A. R. C. Small i Paper Safety Pins.
Dressings (3) 6 Wooden Tongue De-
2 A. R. C. First Aid Out- pressors.
fits. I Medicine Dropper.
6 Assorted Bandages. i Package Paper Cups.
I i-yard package Picric i Tourniquet.
Acid Gauze. i Clinical Thermometer.
I Spool Adhesive Plaster. i 2-oz. Package Absorb-
X Pair Scissors. ent Cotton.
Brief directions telling how to use these are pasted

Inside the lid, but one should order at the same time
a copy of the excellent American Red Cross
little
Abridged Text-book on First Aid (General Edition)
by Major Charles Lynch, Medical Corps, U. S. A.
For prices see the Red Cross catalogue, which Is sent
free on application to the address given above.
Tools. —
An axe and a hatchet are Indispensable
(see Chapters VII and X). If much wood Is to be
cut, and there are poor axemen In the party, a cross-
cut saw is the tool for them. The long pattern for
two men Is much the easiest to cut with, but mean
to transport; a one-man cross-cut with 3-ft. blade
and auxiliary handle for the left hand will do very
well.
A hand saw Is necessary if you are to make a din-
ing table, tent floor, and so on. Make the cook
swear on his cook-book that he will not use that saw
on meat bones (provide him with a cheap kitchen
saw).
A spade or miner's shovel will be needed for
trenching, and for excavating the refuse pit, latrine,
and perhaps a cold-storage hole and a camp oven.
For small tools, see Chapter VII.
Take an assortment of nails and tacks, a spool of
annealed wire, a ball of strong twine, and a bundle
of braided cotton sash cord (for clothes line, emer-
gency guys to tent, etc.).
If you have a dog, string some heavy wire between
two trees as a " trolley," and chain him to it at
night, so he can move back and forth.
Here is a good wrinkle that I found in a sports-
6o CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
men's magazine: If there are children in camp,
" put a small cow-bell in the lunch basket or berry
pail of the youngsters before you let them go into
strange woods. It will reassure both them and you,
and may be the means of preventing a tragedy.
"
Trust them to shake it up if they get lost!
Lanterns. — If a powerful light is wanted in
camp, a gas lantern of the type advertised in sports-
men's journals is a good thing, or an acetylene lan-
tern that is made so that the flame can be regulated.
Ordinarily a common kerosene lantern will serve
very well.
—
Camp Stoves. If there is a separate commissary
tent, the cooking can be done on a common blue-
flame oil or gasolene stove, set up on a perfectly
level stand. Such a stove is useless out of doors
unless fitted with a wind-shield. Do no cooking in
the living tent: it attracts flies and vermin.
The best cooking stoves for campers are those
specially designed for the purpose, and burning
wood. There are many patterns, of varying merit.
Do not buy a folding stove for ordinary camping:
they are bothersome and flimsy.
I leave out of account stoves without ovens (T
can see no good reason for a stove at all unless it has
an oven). There are shown here three different
types of sheet steel camp stoves, each good in its way.
The first one (Figs. 32, 33) is very compact, yet
large enough to cook for four persons, or six in a
pinch. When packed and locked in its metal crate,
it measures 103^x18x213^ inches, and can be
checked as baggage. Inside the fire-box (8 x 10 x 17
inches) are packed three sections of adjustable 4-inch
pipe, and two automatic locking bars. Inside the
oven (73^ x 103^ x 17 inches) there is stowed a 5-
gallon water reservoir, and with it a set of sheet
iron and tin cooking utensils and table service for
six persons. When the stove is in use, the reservoir
hooks on to the left side of the stove, next to the
fire box, and increases the stove top to I7 x 28 inches
FURNITURE FOR FIXED CAMPS 6i
This is a most useful addition, since plenty of hot
water is needed for cooking and in washing up.
The fire box takes in 1 6-inch wood. The oven is
large enough for a gx 15-inch bread pan and will
roast a good-sized fowl.
Fig. 32. — Small Camp Stove Fig. 33. — Stove Packed

When the stove is set up, it is mounted on its steel
crate and the locking bars are attached under the
oven to form a warming rack. It is not intended
for tent heating.
This stove weighs 25 pounds,
and the reservoir and utensils
about 15 pounds more. To
make the pots and pans nest in
the oven, they are made square
or rectangular. For fixed camps
it is best to select your own uten-
sils, and carry the larger ones in
a separate box.
The second stove (Fig. 34)
is made with fire box extending
its entire length. It will take

Fig. 34. Stove for —
Large Wood
in a billet 28 inches long, which
will keep a fire all night, and will be ready for
cooking five minutes after the dampers are opened
in the morning. When packed for transportation,
the stove measures 30 x 14 x 12 inches, and weight
62 ca:\iping and woodcraft
29 pounds (43H pounds complete ^îth grub box
and utensils). When set up, the 14 x 30-inch top
is free for utensils; the oven, above it, takes a
10 X 14-inch pan for baking or roasting. Oven,
legs, and pipe stow inside the body of the stove,
leaving space for a 12 x 13 x 9^-inch galvanized box
that holds cooking utensils and is used in camp as a
dish-pan or as a vermin-proof box for provisions.
A cook-stove with sheet-iron top needs ruD plates.
If you get one with plates, be sure they are far
Fig. 36. — Field

Range (Packed)
Fig. 35- — Field Range

enough apart so that the vessels do not interfere
with each other.
The third type of stove (Figs. 35, 36) is one reg
ularly used by our Geological Survey, Forestry Bu-
reau, and is similar to the Army range, but smaller.
The No. 4 size, to cook for 6 men, packs, with
utensils, in a space 12x13x22 inches. The oven
is 8 X 12 X 12 inches. The range weighs 52 pounds,
the utensils 20 pounds, and a dining service for six
persons, in enamel and white or plated metal, 13
pounds. For continuous field service this is a quite
practical range.
Personalh^ I never use a camp stove, preferring to
cook in the open.
As for a heating stove in a tent, my experience
talhes with that of Dr. Breck: "Either it bakes
you with a temperature of ninety degrees, or it takes
the first opportunity to go aiit directly ^-ou cloê
)'our eyes, and you awake trembh'ng with cold, the
thermometer registering somewhere 'round zer'o."
Someone else has called the tent stove ."
a portable v
hell." But there are those who like

weather camping; and I admit that- if the tent is not
it/ for, cold- ^
"
*
less than 10x14, and the stove's fire-box is bi^^

enough to take in a thick billet two feet lone, so"^*
that it will keep a smouldering all-night fire without
your everlastingly pottering around it, there are
'iimes and places where a stove in the tent may be a
good thing. -
If you do set up a stove, be sure to fix a spark-

-arrester over the top of the pipe. This need not be
anything more costly than a piece of wire netting.
If the stove must be set rather close to the tenl
Avail,take along a sheet of asbestos as a shield. One
of the pads used for dining-tables will do very well.
Such things can be bought at department stores, 01
of mail-order houses.
When starting a fire in an " air-tight," use little
fuel at or you will smother the flame in its own
first,
smoke. If the stove has no legs, make a board

frame like the sides of a low box, or a crib of notched
logs, and with gravel.
fill in
Camp Grates and Fire Irons. A stove is —
merely a convenience and an economizer of fuel.
Quite as good meals can be cooked over an open
fire. Even when it rains, a bonfire can be built to
one side and hard coals shoveled from it to a spot
sheltered by canvas where the cooking is done. But
it pays to take along either a folding grate or a pair
of fire irons to hold the frying-pan, etc., level and
close over the coals. Then you will need no long
stick attached to the frving-oan handle, nor must
the cook give all his attention to that one utensil
when frying or making pancakes.
Of folding grates there are many and ingenious
patterns. I never use any of them for they are
;
likely to warp from heat or to rust in service, and

become unmanageable. Simpler, cheaper, and quite
as useful, are a pair of
**
fire-irons," which are sim-
ply two pieces of flat steel 24 x i ^
x ^^ inches,
weighing 23^ pounds to the pair, that any black-
smith will cut for you in a minute. Lay them across
a couple of logs or flat rocks that are placed on
either side of the fire. You can space them apart
to suit vessels of different sizes. They will stand
any amount of abuse; if they get bent, you can
quickly hammer them back into shape.
Ovens. —
When there is no stove in the outfit,
you will need some kind of camp oven. For a fixed
camp a good kind is the old-
fashioned Dutch oven (Fig.
37). How
to use it is ex-
plained in Chapter XX. For
a party of four to six it should
be of full 13-inch diameter,
which will weigh about 17
pounds. Lighter ones, but
Fig. 37.— Dutch Oven "^"ch more expensive, are made
of aluminum with iron tops.
Aluminum will not stand the high heat necessary
for the top, but does very well for the body of the
vessel, if thick enough.
Such ovens are favorites in the South and the
Far West. They are better than reflectors (see
Chapter VII) for any baking or roasting that re-
quires considerable time (inimitable for pot-roasts
and baked beans), but rather unhandy for biscuits,
though all right for biscuit-loaf.
—
Other Utensils. For stationary camps, or for
traveling by wagon, the most satisfactory material
for pots and table service is enameled ware. It is
easier to clean than any other metal, and it is not
corroded, like tin, by fruits or vegetables steeped,
cooked or left over in it. The tendency of enameled
ware to chip and flake in cold weather can be tamed
by warming gradually before exposing to fierce heat.
Pressed tinware of heavy gauge is good enough
for most purposes, though hard to clean when greasy.
It is unfit to cook tart fruit in, and it makes tea
*'
taste." Thin soldered
tinware is treacherous,
dents and rusts easily, and lasts but a short time.
Aluminum is needlessly expensive for the class of
camping we are now considering.
Where compactness need not be studied, frying-
pans with stationary handles are more practical than
the folding kind.
Acomplete cooking, washing, and table set, for
six persons, is listed below. It is heavy (about 58
pounds, with oven and fire irons, or 38 pounds with-
out them), but cheap (about $13.50 with, or $10.50
without oven and irons) and should last a long time.
Utensils for 6 Persons in Fixed Camp.
Dutch Oven, cast iron, 13^4x6 in. (omitted if there is

a stove).
2 Fire Irons, fiat steel, 24X ij^ x J/^ in. (omitted if there
is a stove).
Dish Pan, enameled, 16x5 in.
Wash Basin, enameled, 13^ in.
2 Milk Pans, enameled, io)/2 in. (for mixing and serv
ing).
Water Pail, enameled, 10 qt.
3 Covered Pails, enameled, 3, 4^^ and 6 qt., nesting.
Double Boiler, enameled, 3^2 qt.
Coffee Pot, enameled, 3^4 qt.
Tea Pot, enameled, 2 qt.
Graduated Measure, enameled, i oK
2 Frying-pans, steel, 10% i^
2 Pot Covers, tin, 10^ in.
Broiler, wire, 9 x 14 in.
3 Pot Chains.
Tea Ball, aluminum.
Dipper, enameled, i qt.
Basting Spoon, enameled.
Skimmer, enameled
Soup Ladle, enamt'led.
Cake Turner, steel.
Butcher Knife, steel.
Flesh Fork, steel.
Kitchen Saw, steel.
Spring Balance, 24 lb.
Pot Cleaner, wire.
Can Opener and Corkscrew.
Salt Shaker.
Pepper Shaker.
TO Dinner Plates, white enameled, 8J/^ in.
6 Cups,white enameled, i pint (handles cut to nest).
6Cereal Bowls, white enameled.
6Knives, steel.
6Forks, white metal.
6Teaspoons, white metal.
6Dessert Spoons, white metal.
2 yds. Table Oilcloth.
2 yds. Turkish Toweling (dish towels and clouts).
100 Paper Napkins.
1 bar Sapolio.
1 bar Fels Naphtha Soap.
A
milk-can should be added if the camp is near a
farm-house.
FiRELESS Cookers. —A
great deal of the bother
of cooking can be saved by using a fireless cooker, in
which all of the slow processes are performed (roast-
ing, baking, stewing, boiling, and making porridge).'
In this case only a few simple utensils are required,
a wood stove is dispensed with, and there is no
need of anyone staying in camp to watch the fire
and the cooking. The soapstone radiators can be
heated over an alcohol or blue-flame stove. Hot
meals can be had at all hours, even when the party
is traveling.
A
rough-and-ready fireless cooker, which can also
be used as a cold-storage box, was described some
years ago in Outing. —
"When preparing your outfit this summer, pack some
of your belongings in a soap or cracker box that has a
fairly close-fitting lid. Take along an old white quilt or
a blanket that can be folded into a pad to fit the box, or
make a crude pad out of unbleached muslin with cotton
batting, about one inch thick. Include in your outfit a
granit-s cooking pail commensurate in capacity with the
FURNITURE FOR FIXED CAIvIFS 67
size of your party. In setting up camp, the soap box is to
be lined with three or four thicknesses of newspaper (this
can be done easily with the aid of a few tacks) and
filled with clean hay or stiaw, packed firmly; and a close
little nest hollowêd out to fit the cooking pail.
This camp fireless cooker has been tested and has
proved a pleasant luxury as well as a convenience in
camp life. It makes possible cooked cereals, rice, evap'
orated fruits and slow-cooking vegetables, where oihei-
wise they would be excluded from the menu. If ther<
are children in the party, these things are particularly
desirable. Keep the soap box in a sheltered place. Let
the food in the cooking pail begin to boil briskly over
the camp fire, then remove it, seeing that the cover is
tightly closed (it should be a cover that shuts in), and
place it in its hay nest. Tuck over it the cotton pad and
three or four thicknesses of newspaper and shut down
the lid of the box. Breakfast cereals may remain in the
cooker over night. Meat, or slow-cooking foods should
boil on the camp fire for fifteen minutes before being
placed in the cooker.
This will also be found a heat-saving and labor-sav-
ing device for those housewives who remain at home
— and it costs almost nothing.
It is not necessary to have ice for keeping milk cool
and sweet in hot weather. The fireless-cooker, which
conserves heat at the boiling point for many hours, will
also conserve cold, or, more properly, keep heat out. A
box lined with paper, packed with clean hay, straw or
shavings and securely covered, is all that is needed.
The bottle of milk, received ice-cold from the dairy-
man's wagon and placed directly in this device, will keep
sweet as long as may be desired."
CHAPTER V
TENTS FOR SHIFTING CAMPS
Tents were devised long before the dawn of his-
tory, and they still are used as portable dwellings
by men of all races and in all climes. Every year
sees countless campers busy with new contrivances
in canvas or other tent materials, seeking improve-
ments — and still the prehistoric patterns hold their
own. Wherever caravans or armies march, or peo-
ple travel by wagon, or summer vacationists take to
a gipsy life, we see wall tents of house shape, or
conical ones, of heavy canvas.
But for a small party traveling in rough country,
with pack animals, or in light water-craft, or per-
chance afoot, such cumbersome affairs are out of the
question.
Wherever transportation is difficult it is impera
live that the tent should be light, compact to carry,
and, if you are to make camp and break camp every
day or two, it must be so rigged that it can be set

up easily and quickly by one or two men.
The tent should shed heavy rains and stand se-
curely in a gale. It should keep out insects and
cold draughts, yet let in plenty of pure air. If cold
weather is to be encountered, either the tent should
be fitted with a very portable stove, or it should be
open in front and so shaped as to reflect the heat of
a log fire down upon the occupants, yet not smother
them with smoke. All of which is easily said, but
harder to combine In fact. Hence the multitude of
tent patterns.
In designing a light tent we begin by cuttirux
68
TENTS FOR SHIFTING CAMPS
nr
69
down the size to what will " sleep " the occupants
and their personal duffle. Since the party is to be
out of doors all day, save in uncommonly bad
weather, a small tent will suffice. Then we dispense
with a fly, and make the tent of waterproof material,
not only to shed rain but also because plain canvas
is very heavy when wet. If the journey is through
a well wooded countrj^, no poles or stakes are car-
ried: they are to be cut on the spot. If, however,
saplings are scarce in the land, then the tent is made
to set up with only one pole, and this pole may be
jointed ;no guy stakes are used, and the pegs are
light things made of steel, as few as practicable.
Tents that are to be carried on pack animals need
to be of strong, heavy duck, or else carried in stout
bags; otherwise they will be ruined by the sawing
of lash ropes and snagging or rubbing against trees
and rocks. For such work the best of army duck is
none too good.
Materials for Light Tents. Otherwise the —
most suitable material is very closely woven stuff
made from Sea Island or Egyptian cotton, which has
a long and strong fiber. A
thin cloth of this kind
is stout enough for most purposes, yet very light, and
a tent made from it rolls up into a much smaller

bundle than one of duck. It comes in various
weights and fineness of texture. The standard grade
of " balloon silk" runs about 3^
oz. to the square
yard in plain goods, and 5>4 oz. when waterproofed
with paraffine. This trade name, by the way, is an
absurdity: the stuff has no thread of silk in it, and
the only ballooning it ever does is when a wind gets
under it.
Cheaper goods, of coarser weave, and intermediate
in weight between this and duck, do well enough for
easy trips, if waterproofed.
Waterproof or Rainproof Cloths. These —
may be classed under two heads: {A) cloth filled
with paraffine or other water-shedding substance;
{B) cloth chemically treated so that each fiber or
70 CAMPING AND WCODCRAF'i
thread is itself repellant of water, but the interstices
are left open.
In the first instance it is not practicable to treat
the cloth before making it up the whole tent should

;
"
be soaked in a waterproofing mixture, or the " wax
ironed in, thus insuring that the seams are tight.
Paraffine is used either plain (in which case it iu
liable to crack or flake in cold weather) or combined
" mineral "
with some elastic substance. The wax
callea ozocerite or cerasine (often used as a substi-
tute for beeswax, and sold by dealers in crude drugs)
isnot so brittle as paraffine, adheres better, and, like
paraffine,has no deleterious action on cloth, being
chemically neutral. I have not known of it being
used by tent-makers, but believe they should try it.
Crude ozocerite is nearly black; when refined it is
of a yellow color (cerasine) and resembles beeswax
but is not so sticky. It makes a tough compound
with rubber.
The plain wax process renders cloth quite water-
proof, but adds considerable weight, makes the stuff
rather stiff, and increases its catch afire,
liability to
when exposed close to a stove or camp-fire.
Cloth of class B is subdivided in two groups:
( 1 ) Cravenetted goods, like duxbak and gabar-^,
dine, are processed in the yarn, or by chemical treat-
ment applied to the raw strands themselves before
they are twisted into thread. Such cloth is not so
waterproof as waxed or oiled stuff, yet tents made
of it can be depended upon to shed rain. It is as
pliable as plain cloth, not perceptibly heavier, and is
not affected by changes of temperature.
(2) Willesden canvas (or twill, etc., as the case
may be), also known in England as "green rot-
proof," cotton stuff soaked in an ammoniacal solu-
is
tion of copper that dissolves enough cellulose in the

cloth to coat each fiber with a more or less imperme-
able " skin " of its own substance, and turns the ma-
terial a light shade of green. It is not so waterproof
^s waxed cloth, yet sheds rain very well if the mate-
TENTS FOR SHIFTING CAMPS 71
rial is closely woven. What is known in this coun-

try as " green waterproof " has gone through the
cupro-ammonium process and then is lightly waxed
besides, making it quite waterproof but more pliable
and slower burning than plain waxed stuff.
The mills produce many grades of light cloth
suitable for tenting. Each tent-maker chooses for
himself, and generally does his own waterproofing.
In comparing samples, count the number of threads
to the inch with a magnifying glass, then note weight
per square yard, and strength.
Cloth proofed with linseed or other drying oil is
not strong enough for tenting (for its weight) it is ;
sticky in hot weather, stiff in cold, and dangerously

inflammable.
Featherweight Tent Materials. — Pedes-
trian and cycle campers sometimes go in for the ut-
most possible lightness and compactness of outfit that
will serve their purposes. For tents they use the
most finely woven cotton, linen, or silk, not water-
proofed, but depending upon extreme closeness of tex-
ture to shed rain. The cloth may " spray " a little
in the first heavy downpour, but it will not leak so
long as nothing rubs it from within.
I have a sample of very close-woven silky cotton
stuff from which a Puget Sound tent-maker turns
out "A"
tents complete of the following weights:
31^x7x4 ft. high, 2 lbs.; 4^x7)^x5 ft., 2^
lbs. ; 7>4 X 7>^ x 7 ft., 5 lbs.
Lightest of all rain-proof materials, strongest for
its weight, and, of course, most expensive, is silk.
It can be woven more closely than any other textile
and so needs no waterproofing (oiled silk, such as
surgeons use, weighs more than "balloon silk").
Genuine silk is the toughest of all fibers but it does ;
not stand much friction, hence should be reinforced

at all friction surfaces, and rolled up when packed
away, not folded in creases. It is unsuitable for any
but special tents made for pedestrians. A London
maker, T. H. Holding, sells a tentlette (If I may
coin a terrr.) of Japanese silk, in wedge shape,
6X 5 X4 ft. 6 in. high, that weighs under I2 ounces;
and it is a practical little affair of kind.
its Of one
of these he reports: "It has stood some of the
heaviest rains, in fact records for thirty hours at a
stretch, without letting in wet, and I say this of an
li-oz. silk one."
Waterproofing Cloth at Home. — If one has
home facilities, there is no reason why he should not
make a good job of waterproofing for himself.
Paraffine Process. —
The cheapest, simplest, and, in
some respects, the most satisfactory way is to get a cake
or two of paraffine or cerasine, lay the tent on a table
rub the outer side with the wax until it has a good coat-
ing evenly distributed, then iron the cloth with a medium-
hot flatiron, which melts the wax and runs it into every
pore of the cloth. The more closely woven the cloth, the
less wax and less total weight.
Some prefer to treat the tent with a solution of paraffine.
In this case, cut the wax into shavings so it will dis-
solve readily. Put 2 lbs. of the wax in 2 gallons of tur-
pentine (for a 7x9 tent or thereabouts). Place the ves-
sel in a tub of hot water until solution is completed.
Meantime set up the tent true and taut. Then paint it
with the hot solution, working rapidly, and using a stiff
brush. Do this on a sunny morning and let tent stand
until quite dry. The turpentine adds a certain elasticity
to the wax; benzine does not.
For tents to be used in cold weather before an

open fire, the following process is better:
—
Alum and Sugar of Lead. First soak the tent over-
night in water to rid it of sizing, and hang up to dry.
Then get enough soft water to make the solutions (rain-
water is best; some city waters will do, others are too
hard). Have two tubs or wash-boilers big enough for
the purpose. In one, dissolve alum in hot soft water,
in the proportion of 34 Jt). to the gallon. In the other,
with the same amount of hot water, dissolve sugar of
lead (lead acetate —
a poison) in the same proportion.
T.et the solutions stand until clear; then add the sugar
of lead solution to the alum liquor. Let stand about four
hours, or until all the lead sulphate has precipitated.
Then pour off the clear liquor from the dregs into the
other tub, thoroughly work the tent in it with the hands
until every part is quite penetrated, and let soak over-
night. In the morning, rinse well, stretch, and hang up
to dry.
A closely woven cloth should be used.
This treatment fixes acetate of alumina in the fibers of
the cloth. The final rinsing is to cleanse the fabric from
the useless white powder of sulphate of lead that is de-
posited on it. Failures are usually due to using hard
water, or a less proportion of alum than here recom-
mended, or to not dissolving the chemicals separately and
decanting off the clear liquor. When directions are fol-
lowed, the cloth will be rain-proof and practically spark-
proof, but not damp-proof if you use it as a ground-sheet
to lie on, or if exposed to friction. After a good deal of
use, the tent will need treating over again, as the mineral
deposit gradually washes out.
Remember that cotton goods shrink considerably when
first soaked.
—
Alum and Soap. Shave up about a pound of laundry
soap and dissolve it in 2 gallons of hot water. Soak the
cloth in it, dry out thoroughly, and then soak in an alum
solution as above, and dry again.
I have had no success with the alum and lime

method mentioned by " Nessmuk."
Good waterproofing compounds can be purchased
teady-made from some tent-makers.
The following recipes, although not suitable for
tents, are useful for other articles of equipment, and
are included here while on the subject of water-
proofing cloth:
Oiled Cloth. —
For groupd-sheets to use under bedding:
get some the best grade of boiled linseed oil of a
of
reputable paint dealer. One quart will cover five or six
square yards of heavy sheeting. Pour it into a pan big
enough to dip your hand into. Lay out the cloth and rub
the oil into it between your palms, using just enough oil
at a time to soak the cloth through, filling the pores, but
leaving no surplus. Then stretch it in a barn or garret,
or other dry shady place, for one week. Finish drying by
hanging in the sunlight three or four days, fi .st one side
up, then the other.
—
Flexible Celluloid Coating. A flexible enamel such
as is used on fly lines for fishing is also useful for finish-
ing seams in articles sewed up from waterproofed cloth.
Get some old photographic films, soak them in hot water,
and scrub off the gelatine surface with a small stiff brush.
74 crA:VIPING AND WOODCRAFT
VVhen they are dry, gradually
add them to acetone until
the solution IS of the
consistency of varnish. If a
of It dries transparent drop
and firm, it is fit. In this
it makes a strong state
cement or hard rod varnish that
not crack or peel. wi I
To make it flexible, proceed as 7oL
Add common benzine to the amount of one-fourth
th^
acetone. Shake well. Let the mixture
Draw off the clear varnish from the sta^d an'set le
water at the bo^
torn, and test as before.
If it does not dry clear
add a little more benzine. and firm
""'
Now add castor oil to the amount
of two-third, the
weight o the dry celluloid films
that havrbeen used
shake well, and give it time
to thoroughly mix
Test if
in^^f:ce;^7=r^^^r ^:^~^
^'°' -^^f
^^
S'^'s ' °''
It us flexibility.
DvEiNc Cloth.— Use Diamond

dye a kind of
recommended by the makers for
eoUon goods. Fol
mv d,rect,ons on package. Dye
tlie tent a deeper
considerably m sun and rain. The dyeing must be

done before waterproofing
CON-STRUCTION OF LiGHT Tents.-
In a tent of
row, rf
"'
ow to keep the"
I shelter
i!"r''"'
'hat the widths be nar-
taut when set up and
that
he seams be remforced with
tape, to
reliev the c oth
tself from overstram. Eaves,
bottom, and corners
should be strengthened
with double cloth
U
there IS a ridge, have
it reinforced
with tines
r."ret'.eti:n^L'-rT-^*--^^-^
the?e"t\S alLed-i^. ^' ='™""^' ""'^
itt''
A tent that is to be used in"fly ti-ie " 's cer-
^ curtain'of -cheesecloth
rtbMnTt"'"' Yf"''
used l.,te m the season „-,th an
all-night fire in front
All tents that are

made to close up at night or in
bad weather should be fitted with screened windows

for ventilation. The smaller the tent, the greater
the need of this.
Guy-rope slides, if there are any, should be or gal-
vanized wire. Grommets (galvanized iron rings
worked in by hand) are much better than brass eye-
lets which are likely to pull out.
Ropes and beckets are to be small but strong;
braided sash cord is best for a ridge rope.
Tent pins of steelare more durable and less
cumbersome than wooden ones. In well forested
countries none need be carried, but four steel cornet
pins help in setting up the tent quickly.
CHAPTER VI
TYPES OF LIGHT TENTS

Local conditions, means of transportation, and size
of party, are to be considered in choosing among the
many tent models that have been designed for camp-
ers who travel light. All depends on where you go,
when you go, how you go, and what you want to do.
The perfect all-round tent is a myth, like the perfect
all-round gun. Of one thing, though, be sure: that
whatever rig you choose shall be stanch against
wind. The utmost pinnacle of comfort is reached
when one lies at night under canvas, with a storm
roaring toward him through the forest, and chortles
over the certainty that no wind can blow his tent
down. And it takes just one second of parting guys
and ripping cloth to tumble him off his perch and
cast him headlong into the very depths of woe.
Light Wall Tents. —A
wall tent is the favor-
ite cloth shelter of soldiers, engineers, explorers, nat-
uralists, trappers, loggers, and other practical men
who live away from civilization a great deal of the
time. For one it gives the most head-room
thing,
for a given amount of material and that counts,
;
especially in continuous bad weather, or when one

comes in wet all over and wants to hang up his
clothes to dry. It is the best form of tent if a stove
is carried ; and that may be necessary in a thinly
wooded country, late in the season. The vertical
ends permit large ventilators or windows that may
be kept open in almost any weather. There is no
waste space, as in tents without walls.
Wall tents for flying camps should be much
lighter, of course, than those mentioned in Chapter
'76
TYPES OF LIGHT TENTS 77
III. In wooded country they are to be set up with
shears, as previously described t or, if the ground
favors, and a quick set is desired, run a ridge rope
from tree to tree, or from a tree to a stake, stretch
the guys, and do not bother to pin down the bottom
but simply weight the sod-cloth.
Light waterproof wall tents may be had in great
variety of sizes and materials, from which the fol-
lowing are selected as examples (width, depth,
height, and wall, in order given) :
Balloon Silk (white).

iVzy^ iVz^l -2 10^ lbs.
S^x 8^x7^-3 14^ lbs.
1034x10^x8^-3^20 lbs.
Tanalite (tan), Emeralite (green).

7x7x7-2 10 lbs.
8J^x 8^x73^-3 14 lbs.
10 X 10 x8J^-3^ 19 lbs.
Tang (tan), Nilo (green).

73^ X 73^x7-2 9 lbs.
73^ X 9 X 7-23/2 II lbs.
9 X 12 X 7-2 3/^ 13 lbs.
Kiro (olive drab).

7 X 7 X 7-23/2 123^2 lbs.
93^x11^x8-3 20^ lbs.
11^x14 x9-33^ 27 lbs.
Extra Light Green.

6>4x 63^x6 -2 7 lbs.
8 X 8 X 7 -23/2 10 lbs.
93^x93^x73^-3 133/2 lbs.
Green Egyptian.
7/^ X 73^ X 7-2 93^ lbs.
9^x 9^x8-334 16^ lbs.
9^xi2>^x8-3^ 19 lbs.
Green Standard.
7^^ X 7^^,-2 x 7
12 lbs,
9^x 9^x8 -334 19'/' lbs.
TiM X ii-M X 9^4-334 273/^ lbs.
All of the above-named tents have tape ridges that
can be tied to outside poles, and are fitted with sod-
cloths.
Smaller, and larger, and intermediate sizes are
made but if a lighter shelter is wânted it is gener-
;
ally best to choose some other shape than a wall

tent; and, if a larger one, then use heavier material
that stand up better and endure more strain.
wîll
Directions for setting up wall tents are given in

Chapter III (see especially Figs, ii, 15).
Conical Tents. A — tent may be " light " abso-
lutely (so many pounds all told) or relatively (so
Fig. 38.— U. S. A. Conical Tent
many pounds per

sheltered). man
Conical tents of
military pattern, such as the old Sibley, the present
U. S. A., and the Bell tent of the British service, be-
long to the latter class.
The U. S. Army conical wall tent (Fig. 38) is
16 ft. 5 in. in diameter, 10 ft. high, and has a 3-ft.

wall. It is erected by a single pole, the butt of
which fits into a folding steel tripod, thus shortening
the pole and giving it better bearing. At the top is
an opening shielded by flaps. It is heated by a bot-
tomless cone-shaped stove of 2-ft. diameter at the
bas^. (Fig» 39) with 5-in. pipe. This stove con-
:

sumes little fuel. It is fed with sticks stood on end
(dn^ "cow
chips" will do), and the draught is
regulated banking earth around the bottom.
by
Such a tent is room)- and comfortable for eight men
in any weather. It will
shelter a dozen or more at a
pinch.
A conical tent is best for
a party traveling on the
plains, where violent wind-
storms or cloud-bursts or
blizzards may suddenly be
encountered, and w^here there
is little or no timber. A
cone sheds winds and rain
better than any other shape,
as has a steep pitch and
it
equal bracing in all direc-

tions. On the other hand, it
Fig- 39- Sibley Tent—
Stove
is not fit for rough grounds;
unless the site is smooth and level the tent bottonnt

will gape in some places and sag in others. con- A
ical tent cannot be set up properly without a full
set of pegs, and it requires many of them.
Smaller and lighter conical tents are made for^
various tastes but no tent of this shape should be of
;
less diameter than 13 feet with wall, or 14 feet with-

out one; for the occupants are supposed to lie like
spokes of a wheel, and their feet must not come too
near the center pole.
The army conical wall tent is usually pitched by
eight men, of whom the director is designated as
No. 8. They wôrk as follows
the hood lines of the tent are placed three marks;

Upon
the about 8 feet 3 inches, the second about 11 feet 3
first
inches, the third about 14 feet 2 inches from the hcod
ring; the first marks the distance from the center to the
wall pins, the second to the guy pins, and the distance
between the second and third is the distance between guy
pins. These distances vary slightly for different tents
and should be verified by actual experiment before per-
manently marking the ropes. To locate the position of
guy pins after the first, the hood ring being held on the
center pin, with the left hand hold the outer mark on
the pin last set, with the right hand grasp the rope at
the center mark and move the hand to ihe right so as to
have both sections of the rope taut; the center mark
is then over the position desired; the inner mark is over
the position of the corresponding wall pin.
To pitch the tent, No. i places the tent pole on the
ground, socket end against the door pin, pole perpendicu-
lar to the company street. No. 2 drives the center pin at
the other extremity of the pole. No. 3 drives a wall pin
on each side of and i foot from the door pin. No. 4
places the open tripod fiat on the ground with its center
near the center pin. The whole detachment then places
the tent, fully opened, on the ground it is to occupy, the
center at the center pin, the door at the door pin.
No. 8 holds the hood ring on the center pin, and super-
intends from that position. No. i stretches the hood rope
over the right (facing the tent) wall pin and No. 2
drives the first guy pin at the middle mark. No. i marks
the position of the guy pins in succession and No. 2 drives
a pin lightly in each position as soon as marked. At
the same time No. 5 inserts small pins in succession
through the wall loops and places the pins in position
against the inner mark on the hood rope, where they
are partly driven by No. 6. No. 4 distributes large pins
ahead of Nos. i and 2; No. 7, small pins ahead of Nos.
5 and 6; No. 3 follows Nos. i and 2 and drives the guy
pins home. No. 7, after distributing his pins, takes an
ax and drives home the pins behind Nos. 5 and 6. No. 4,
after distributing his pins, follows No. 3 and loops the
guy ropes over the pins.
Nos. I, 2, and 3, the pins being driven, slip under the
tent and place the pin of the pole through the tent and
hood rings while No. 8 places the hood in position. Nos.
I, 2, and 3 then raise the pole to a vertical position and
insert the end in the socket of the tripod; they then
raise the tripod to its proper height, keeping the center
or the tripod over the center pin; while they hold the
pole vertical. Nos. 4, 5, 6, and 7 adjust four guy ropes,
one in each quadrant of the tent, to hold the pole in its
vertical position, and then the remaining guy ropes. As
soon as these are adjusted the men inside drive a
pin at each foot of the tripod if necessary to hold it in
pla::e.
The tent may also be pitched by four men. No. 4 holds
the hood ring and superintends. After the tent is in
position on the ground it is to occupy, the pins are dis-
tributed by Nos. 2 and 3. Number 3 takes the place of
Nos. 5 and 6 in placing the wall loop pins. After all the
pins are placed they are driven home, all assisting.
This takes a long time to describe, but the thing

is done in a jiffy.
Teepees. — The
teepee (pronounced tee-pee) of
the plains Indians was an admirable shelter for the
country they roamed over. Being of conical shape,
and erected on a set of inside poles meeting at the top
and with their butts radiating in every direction, it
was proof against anything but a tornado. A very
small fire in the center sufficed to keep it warm, and
the smoke was wafted out of a hole at the top by an
ingenious arrangement of flaps set according to the
direction of the wind, in combination with an inner
curtain around the bottom of the teepee, a little
higher than a man's head, with its lower edge con-
fined like a sod-cloth. The draught, entering freely
through the gaps between tent pegs, emerged at top
of curtain, and was drawn " a-fluking " upward by
the warm current of air from the fire.* It has been
said that no white man can manage a fire in a teepee
without smoking the occupants out. This is an
error: I have done it myself; but I had the best of
dry wood in plenty, and I gave that fire more atten-
tion than it deserved.
The beauty of the teepee is that there is no center
pole in the way. However, it needs at least nine
lodge poles, and they should be slender, stiff, and
straight. This rules it out of consideration by camp-
ers generally. Remember, too, that the real Indian
teepee was made of skins, impermeable to wind and
proof against sparks. Under modern conditions, if
you must have a fire in your tent, use a stove.
Pyramidal Tents. —
For a party of only two or
three, traveling light, in a region where trees and
saplings are scarce, as on the plains, or the coast, or
in the mountains above timber-line, and where storms
* For details and illustrations see Edward Cave's The Boy's
Camp Book, pp. 31-33-
8- CAMPING AND WOODCRAFl'
may be violent, there Is nothing better than a pyrzv
midal or ''miner's" tent (Fig. 40). It requires
only one pole, and but few pegs. It has more avail-
able ground space than a conical tent of equal cubic
capacity. It Is economical of cloth. Next to the
cone. It Is the most stable form of tent, and it sheds
rain and snow better than any other. One man,
without assistance, can set it up In a trice. It sets
well on uneven ground, and is easy to trench.
Pyramidal tents may be had with walls; but they
are not nearly so easy to erect as one without a wall,
Fig. 40. — Miner's Tent

and many more pegs must be carried. This shape is
at its best in the plain miner's form of a size suitable
for two or three men namely, a 7x7x7 or a
:
9/^ X 93/2 x8^ ft., weighing, In different materials,

from 534 to 14 lbs. A jointed pole of ash will
weigh about 4^ lbs. In 7-ft., or 5 lbs. in 8^ ft.
length, and a dozen 9-Inch steel tent pins about 2 lbs.
Since the only head-room in such a tent is directly
under the peak, a center pole Is constantly in the
way. If a little extra weight is not prohibited, it is
better to carry a pair of jointed shear poles that set
up inside the tent, one on either side, like two legs
TYPES OF LIGHT TENTS «3
of a tripod. Of course, if poles can be found near
camp, the tent may be erected on outside shears or
tripod. For this purpose, or for suspending from
Fig. 41. — Frazer Tent

R limb, it should have a strong canvas loop sewed to
ihe peak.
If the tent is to be used on a sandy coast or desert.
Fig. 42. —Marquee

or where insects are very bad, it is best made with a
ground-cloth sewed fast to the bottom, or with a
separate one that fits over a rather wide sod-cloth.
The Frazer (Fig. 41) has a small awning
tent
to shield the doorway, and a cloth " sill " that holds'
the bottom together. There is a window at the
rear. Only a small screen required at the door-
is
way is good.
to keep out insects, yet the ventilation
It is not a cold-weather tent, as it cannot be thrown
wide open, like a plain miner's tent, to receive the
rays of a camp-fire.
Some canoeists in *' civilized waters '* prefer the
marquee (Fig. 42), because it has more head-room
than a pyramidal tent. It has spreaders attached to
the center pole, like ribs of an umbrella, to extend the
eaves, and guy ropes to stiffen them against wind;
but in spite of these braces it is not very stable.
Semi-pyramidal Tents. — The lightest of en-
closed tents that allow a man to stand upright under
shelter is one shaped like a pyramid cut vertically in
Fig. 43. — George Tent

half. Since the pole, if one is used, stands in front,
it is the way than the center pole of a pyra-
less in
niidal tent, bi't a suy or two must be run out for-
TYPES OF LIGHT TENTS «5
ward to brace it. A
better rig, when poles can be
cut on the spot, is an outside tripod (as an example
see Fig. 66). If a small tree happens to stand con-
veniently on the camp site, the tent peak can be sus-
pended from it.
A good example of model
this is the George tent
(Figs. 43, 44). For two men, dimensions are
its
7x7x7 ft. In waterproofed " balloon silk " it
weighs about 5^ lbs., including pegs, and rolls up
into a parcel 12x5 in., convenient for the knap-
sack. To pitch it: Peg down at i and 2 (Fig. 44),
A—
Fig. 44. — Layout of George Tent

carry 3 and 6 at right angles to i and 2, pull taut,
peg down, insert pole, and raise or suspend as above.

;
This is done in one minute, if no poles have to be

cut. A cheesecloth front is needed in fly time. In
cold weather the front is left open, and the sloping
back and sides reflect camp-fire heat down upon the
sleepers.
Semi-pyramidal tents must be wtW guyed to stand
up in a contrary wind. They are best suited to
canoeists and forest cruisers.
Modified Pyramid Tent. —A shelter tent
adaptable to varied conditions, and a very good
model for " go light " trips, was recently described in
Outing by its designer, R. S. Royce. His article is
here reprinted in full, by permission of the publish-
ers.
So CAAlriNG AND WOODCRAFX
THE ROYCE TENT.
" Several seasons ago, desiring a very light tent for
side trips, or, in fact, anywhere that a comfortable shelter
was needed under conditions which would not permit of
using a wall tent, one was designed which so well met
all requirements and aroused so much interest among
the outing brotherhood as to warrant presenting a de-
tailed description of it.
Keeping away from the idea of a mere shelter to
crawl under, and insisting on having something really
comfortable in the event of several stormy days or nights^
and with a spirit of comradeship that finds more fun
in an outing shared by one or two friends, rather than
alone, a tent was designed to afford room for two or
three and high enough to sit, dress, or stand in.
This sounds like something too big for the ruck-sack,
or a minor corner of a pack-basket, without crowding the
other essentials of going light. However, it was accom-
plished at a weight of four pounds, making a package
about 6 inches in diameter and 12 inches long for carry-
ing; erected, it covers 56 square feet, as a closed half
pyramid 7 feet 9 inches high and y^^^ feet square (Fig.
45). But this is not all, for it is extensible to a pyramid
7^2x13 feet, still 7 feet 9 inches high, but open at one
end to the peak (Fig. 47) or it may be extended at the
;
front of the half pyramid in a triangle the width of the

tent, 73^x2^ feet, closing completely and increasing the
length of the tent to lo feet (Fig. 46). The objection is
immediately presented that this is too large a tent for go-
ing even moderately light, but one may reasonably ask
ôvv much smaller package or lighter can you take, and
get room for standing, sitting, and sleeping.''
Considering this, first, as a half pyramid tent, 7^ x
iVz and 7^^ feet high; no form gives so much ground
opace with headroom from so little material as a pyramid;
none sheds water better, nor resists wind so well, and
none is simpler or quicker to erect.
The objections to a pyramid, of scant headroom and
lost space on ground by rapidly sloping roofs; of pres-
ence of pole in the center, and of possible rain leak any-
where on the entrance side from peak to ground, are
largely overcome by carrying the peak to 7^ feet, giving
more headroom and nearer perpendicular roofs; and by
making the peak over the center of one side, instead of in
the middle of the tent, giving a perpendicular entrance
opening and no pole in the ground space. This gives bet-
ler than a 45-degree pitch to the back roof and about
65-degree pitch to the side roofs: sheds rain well.
TYPES OF LIGHT TENTS S?
withoul: necessary recourse to waterproofing, and allows
of erection not only over a single upright pole, or suspen-
sion from overhanging branch, but also permits of setting
up near any upright tree to which the peak-line may be
extended diagonally upward in a general line with the
slope of the back roof, thus generally eliminating the tent-
pole problem.
Now, some of the arguments for this half pyramid be-
Fig. 45, — Front Upright Fig. 46. -Wings Advanced

2>4 feet
iF'ig. 47 — Wings Extended Fig. 48. —

One Wing Closed,
sheltering 73/2x13 feet One Open for Wind-break
Fig. 49. — One Wing Partly

Extended
RoYCE Tent
ing given, another exists in the use of it with the front

open (flaps turned away back on the side roofs), when it
proves to be as truly a baker tent as the one usually de-
scribed as such, and heats well wnth a fire in front.
The peculiar feature of this design is in the extra size
and the form of the flaps, which make possible the tri-
angular extension of the front for 2^ feet and still clos-
ing completely; and the further extension of the flaps, in
plane with the side roofs, leaving an open-ended tvue
pyramid 7^^x13 feet, at an increase of only aVioo yards
of material and not over one-quarter pound
weight, over
that required for the simple half pyramid 7^/^ feet squ'L.re,
barely closed. . •
r
This is worth while for most of permits oi
us, for it
considerable extra room at practically no expense of

weight or material, and allows of use in a variety of
ways otherwise impossible: viz., the flaps extended conti-
pletely, in plane with the side, leave an
unroofed tri-
angle/within which a fire may be built, aJlowing the
camper to sit under either flap, and, protected, manipulate
his frying pan, etc.; or one may be so extended
and the
other closed, affording a wind and rain protection with
good ventilation (Fig. 48), or one may be closed and
the other extended 2^ feet (as for triangular front),
leaving an open doorway without disclosing to view the
interior, on account of the extra wide flaps (Fig. 49).
Another peculiarity is that in the event of finding
only a short tent-pole and no tree to tie to, the tent may
be set up vvith any height pole, under 'jYz feet, and dress
taut and trim, and, incidentally, cover a larger ground
space, but, of course, at cost of less pitch to the roofs.
The front being open clear to the peak, and all lines con-
verging there, it is very easily cleared of insects by brush
or smudge.
Of course, any pyramid tent, without perpendicular side
walls, is free from the need of stakes, as only short pegs
are necessary; when a quick shelter is needed, the peak-
lineover a branch or to a tree and pegs at the four
corners will serve until it is convenient to place the inter-
mediate pegs.
So many inquiries as to the details of this tent hav^
been made, and so many requests for measurements and
directions for making copies of it have occurred, that
diagrams and measurements are here given.
Any tent-maker can reproduce it, for amateurs have,
and it lends itself easily to those who enjoy making their
own equipment.
The original is made of Lonsdale cambric and lightly
waterproofed, and weighs only four pounds. It has had
hard usage and has proved altogether satisfactory. Any
thin material closely woven will serve, and that, too,
without waterproofing, with roofs so steep.
Sheeting is practical, but would give a weight in excess
of that quoted here.
DIRECTIONS FOR CUTTING AND SEWING

Mateiial: Light, closely-woven cambric or other close
(iiaterial, 36 inches wide.
Dimensions: Seven feet 6 inches square on ground and
7 feet 9 inches high to peak.
Form: Half pyramid. Front "A," perpendicular;
roof sloping three ways from pointed peak. Front flaps
or wings are made to overlap considerably, and are longer
than are necessary to reach the ground when closed per-
pendicularly.
LAYOUT FOR SIDE WALLS (fIG. 50)
Join two breadths 4" long by edges, overlaid and

10'
double-stitched. Pin these out on floor smooth, and from
point i' 9" from end on one side to point same distance
from other end of other side pin down a cord tight; close
*it either side of cord pin or baste a narrow tape, leaving
Fig. 50
tapes which cross the edges about two feet longer. Stitch
these tapes down and divide goods in line between tapes.
Sew to i' 9" edge the selvage edge of a triangle i' 9" by
1' 6" and sew tape to bias edge. These two triangles are
the two side roofs.
LAYOUT OF MATERL-xL FOR BACK (fIG. 51)
Pin out smooth one breadth 13' long, and between points
2'2^" from each end on opposite side edges draw line or
pin tight cord and sew tapes either side of line, leaving
tapes which cross the edges two feet longer. Against
go CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
these edges and to the tapes sew triangles 2' 2" by 9".
Divide the goods between the tapes. These two triangles
to be turned with selvage edges together and when joined
form the back roof.
Fig. 51
This is permit extending the front 2^ feet triangu-

to
larly and closing it tight; also allowing the wings
still
to be extended 5 feet 6 inches in plane with the side
roofs, producing a pyramid 13 feet by 7^/2 feet open at one
end to the peak.
LAYOUT OF MATERIAL FOR WINGS (fIG. 52)
Pin out one breadth 8' 7/^" long. From one corner to
point on opposite side, and 3' 10J/2" from the opposite end
:rî^!5zzi^
F-ROisir IS CUOSCD
^jôufô ufr>fS t^Herry/ open

Fig. 52
draw line and sew tape on side of line toward larger piece,
leaving tape about 4' 9" longer than reaching to the sel-
vage edge. Against this 3' 10^" selvage edge sew tri-
angle cut from other side of line, using right angled tri-
angle 3' lo^" by 2' 6", binding bias edge with over-
hanging tape. This makes only one flap or wing Dupli-

cate.
HOW TO SET IT UP
Join to each diagonal edge of the back one of ttie
diagonal edges of each sidepiece; and to the selvage edge
of each side-piece a selvage edge of one of the wings.
Close the peak around a 54"inch metal ring. Leave
front wings open clear to peak. Turn in ground edge a
little all around and attach strong tape loops for pegs at
corners and five between on each side and back and four
on bottom of each wing; also on a line from lower at-
tached corner of each wing to a point 2 feet up from
bottom of free edge of each wing put four loops on outside
and again on a line from corner to a point 4 inches still
higher four more loops. These loops are for pegging
down wings in the three positions of extension in plane
with sides, in partial extension, and when closed with
perpendicular front.
If sod- ;loth is desired, a breadth of cloth 7^ feet long
split in three strips will make about a lo-inch sod cloth if
attached to lowêr edge of sides and back before putting
on a heavy tape which will finish the lower edge. No
sod-cloth is needed at front as wings will turn in suf-
ficient in all positions except when
fully extended.
For light tent, flap-ties are best of tape and should be
spaced along the free edges of each wing and also at
line where edges fall when overlapped so as to make front
bottom line of tent measure 7^
feet. Wings need hem
or tape for free edges. A
5^-inch braided cord 15 feet
long is needed from peak where it can be attached to a
metal ring just too large to pull through the peak ring.
From this inside ring it is well to lead like cords down
to the back corners of the tent and out through eyelet-holes
through the sod-cloth just under the corner peg-loops.
These two add to the trimness of tent, especially if of
very light material, and can be run to front corners as
well, if desired.
MATERIAL
36-inch wide stuff ôYz yards.
5^-inch tape 75 feet.
^-inch tape for bottom edge 23 feet.
^ cord, peak 15 feet 1

f^^^^
Vs, cord 2 back seams 25 J
Wedge or " A " Tents. — The wedge tent Is
m " old stand-by " for those who go where portages

must be made or camp shifted every day or twoc
It is light, cheap, easy to pitch with or without poles,
and well adapted to uneven ground.
is
In wooded country the camper oftenmay find two

trees or saplingsfrom which to stretch a rope, above
the level of his head, where it is out of the way.
The tent is then pegged out and suspended by its
ridge from the rope. This is a quick and satisfac-
Fig. 53. — Wedge Tent, Outside Ridge Rope

tory *' set " in level forest. On rough ground it may
be hard to find a place for the tent with trees grow-
ing just where you want them.
Common wedge tents are made with rope running
through, under the ridge. The ridge then sags in
what engineers call a catenary curve. This makes
the sides sag inward, reducing the roominess all
around, and the wind makes matters worse. bet- A
ter plan is to have tapes on the outside of the ridge.
(Fig- 53) run the rope high and taut, then tie the
>
middle tapes closer to the rope than the outer
ones.
The bottom of a wedge tent with rope ridge should
be pegged in such way that the sides will be in arcs of
a circle, instead of straight along the ground (Fig.
54) this takes up slack. The ground-cloth, if there
:
Fig- 54- — Pegging Bottom of Tent
is one, should be cut accordingly. The thinner the

material, the more a tent will sag when erected with-
out a ridge pole. Partially to obviate this, and to
stiffen the tent in a gale, it is a good scheme to at-
tach parrels (Figs. 55, 58) to ropes or strong seams
in the sides. These pull outward and turn the
Fig. 55. — Side Parrels

wedge into a semi-wall tent. Referring to Fig 55,
C shows the theoretically straight side of a wedge
tent and Ethe actual inward sag from ridge droop
and wind pressure. The dotted line indicates the F
opposite side without parrels, and A
is the same wall
held out and made taut by the parrels BG. The

94 CAMFIJNG AND VVUUUUKAri'
illustration is adapted from one by T. H. Holding,
of London.
Where no trees stand convenientl}^, a forked stake
can be placed at each end of the tent, the rope run
over the crotches and staked out as a guy fore and
aft; but the front guy is much in the way. It is bet-
ter to set up shears and a ridge pole, as in Fig .11.
Often a natural support can be found for one end
of the pole.
When traveling w^here there are few or no trees,
it will be necessary to carry jointed poles of wood,
steel, or bamboo. There may as well be three of
these, so that two can be straddled to leave the door-
way free. A
jointed ridge pole makes the tent stand
trimmer but, if all that weight can be carried, the
;
party had better take a wall tent and be comfort-

able.
Wedge tents are not recommended in sizes larger
than about 7 x 7 x 7 f t. Weights of a few examples
are as follows:
Tanalite, Emeralite Extra Light Greeist

473x7x5. 6 lbs. 4^x6^x5. 5 lbs.
7 X7X7. 8 lbs. 6>4x6>^x7. 6^ lbs.
Balloon silk a bit heavier.
Tang, Nilo Green Egyptian.

7^x5. 4^
4]^ X lbs. 5 X7>^x5. 6>^ lbs.
7)^x7^x7. 714 lbs. 7^x773x7. 9>^ lbs.
The alpine tent shown in Fig. 58 was designed by

Edward Whymper, and has been used by many other
famous mountaineers, such as Sir Martin Conway,
Douglas Freshfield, Dr. Hunter Workman, and the
Duke of the Abruzzi, for exploration among the
highest mountains of the globe. It is made of
Willesden canvas or drill, with a sewed-in ground-
sheet, and a " sill " at the door, to cut out draughts
?<nd ground chill. Few pegs are required. When
the floor is stretched taut, every peg finds proper its
place. The poles form shears at each end, over
-which the ridge rope is guyed out fore and aft This
is a very stanch " set." The standard size ij
7 X 7 X 65^ ft.
,-K\\
Fig. 56. — Whymper Alpine Tent

Modified Wedge Tents. —
An angular lap or
extension may
be added to the lower edge of each
door flap to serve as a wind shield for a cooking fire
in bad weather. If the rear end of a wedge tent is
made rounded instead of square, extra room foi
duffle is provided, with little additional weight.
The Hudson Bay tent (Fig 57) saves weight b)
Fig' 57- — Hudson Bay Tent

having both ends rounded and the ridge short. It
does not sag so much as a regular wedge tent, and is
more stable in a wind, but affords less head-room.

Toget more head-room In a tent without walls,
the Ross alpine tent (Fig. 58) is fitted over a sec-
tional bent frame. It has side parrels, and a door
at each end. The dimensions are 7 x 7 x 6^ ft.
Fig. 58. — Ross Alpine Tent

Separable Shelter Tents. — When men travel
in pairs, going light, it is a good plan for each to
carry a " shelter-half," adequate to protect him if
he should become separated from his companion, and
so fitted with ridge flap and tapes that it can quickly
be attached to its mate to form a low, broad wedge
tent.
s^
Fig' 59' — Separable Shelter Tent

The old-fashioned army shelter half was merely a
rectangle of 73^- or 8-oz. duck, two of which, but-
toned together, made an A-shaped roof open at both
-TYPES OF TLIGHI^ TENrb' 9/
ends. It was protection against shifting winds.
little
In the present military sheltertent, the halves, when
joined, close at the rear end, which is lower than
the front. A
rifle stood up at the front is all the
support needed, and it can instantly be recovered for

emergency use bv kicking the butt tree.
For hikers, etc., a good separable tent consists of
two lean-tos that close at both ends when joined
(Fig. 59). Sometimes these halves are made with a
12 to 18-inch wall (Fig 60). Each half should be
Fig. 60.— Shelter Half with Wall
about 7 ft. long, 3^ or 3^ ft. wide, and 4.% ft.
high, weighing about 3j^ lbs.

Shelter Cloths. — For side trips from camp, a
simple rectangle of thin, closely woven waterproof
cloth, with grommets and tapes, is all one needs in
moderate weather. Set it up at an angle, facing the
fire, and, if need be, thatch one or both sides with
evergreen boughs or other windbreak. The cloth is

useful as a " tarp " about camp and as a wrap for
packs on the trail. One that I use, of Tanalite,
7 X Q ft., weighs 25^ lbs. Set up with a 9-ft. slant,
it stands 6 ft. high In front and shelters 7x5 ft. of
ground. A small pyramidal mosquito bar should be
taken along in summer.
Tarpaulin Tent. —A larger shelter cloth cut
as in Fig. 61, the seams reinforced with tapes, beck-
ets for tent pins added along three sides, and door
tapes along the other, as indicated, has many uses.
It serves, as one wishes, either for a simple lean-to
shelter, a wedge tent open at both ends, a semi-
pyramidal enclosed tent, a dining fly, a tarpaulin, a
ground-sheet, a pack-cloth, or an emergency sail on a
Fig. 61. — Tarpaulin Tent

boat. Referrmg to the diagram, it will be seen that
when the triangular corners A
and B are tucked
under we have practically the George tent, and the
cloth is erected in the same way.
These " tarp " tents are furnished by outfitters
ready-made, in various materials, and in sizes from
73^x12 to 10x13 ft., making semi-pyramidal
shelters from x9x6 to J xy x 6^ ft., water-
4^
proofed, weighing from 3^ to lbs. 6^
Full direc-
tions for making one at home are given in The Boy
Scout's Hike Book by Edward Cave.
—
Baker Tent. For a light tent in the hunting
season. East or South, I prefer one with a shed-roof,
rear wall, and a front that can be closed when one is
away for the day, or when a contrary wind springs
up with driving rain. Usually the front is left open,
and in cold weather a good fire with back-logs of
green wood is kept going all night, about five feet in
front of the tent. Of course, this takes a lot of
wood, a good-sized hardwood tree being consumed
in a single night, and the labor of chopping is rather
severe to any one but a good axeman but the work;
is well repaid by the exquisite comfort of lying be-
fore the blazing backlogs on a cold night, warm as

toast, and breathing deeply the fresh air of the for-
est. Such a tent is never damp and cheerless, as
closed tents are apt to be. The heat rays are re-
flected downward by the sloping roof, drying the
ground and warming one's bed in a comparatively
short time.
Fig. 62. — Baker Tent

A baker tent may
be set up on shears (Fig. 62),
or on stakes (Fig. 63), or on a pole nailed from one
tree to another, or in various other ways suggested
by the location. At the rear a stake is driven for
each corner guy and a pole laid outside it, on the
ground, to which the other guys are made fast; or a
frame is made.
If the door is stretched straight forward as shown
in these illustrations, it will prevent having a fire
close in front where it should be. Ordinarily the
:

flap isthrown backward over the roof when a camp-
fire isgoing. A long pole on each side of the tent,
run diagonally upward from rear to front, will lift
the awning high enough to be out of the way. How-
ever, I prefer to have the door-flap separate, and so
fitted with grommets or eyelets that it can be at-
tached either to the top or to one side of the tent, as
preferred. In warm weather, when no all-night fire
isneeded, it may be hung from the top as an awning,
and the tent may be closed up by it when the occu-
pants are away; but on nights when a fire is kept
going the flap should be stretched forward vertically
from the windward side of the tent front, so as to
Fig. 63. — Camp-fire Tent

check the draught from that direction, and the fire
should be built close to the tent, the front of which
is left wide open.
A snow on the roof of an ordinary baker
fall of
tent may
cause trouble, unless an outside framework
has been built and thatched with browse. The
camp-fire tent (Fig. 63) has a steeper roof, which
sheds rain andsnow much better, and it affords more
head-room without increased weight. This is the
best pattern of baker tent. Sizes and weights of
some examples are as follows, the dimensions being
width, depth, height of front, center, and back, in
turn
FYFES OF LlGJti^' lEN lb lOi
Extra Light
^\.
Ga£o^
6^x6^x6-7 -a^'O^s.
yVsx
Green EgyptiA^^ ^
7^x6 -7^2-2^. <^r^\^Q
V' v>
9^x7^^x6-7^-2]^. i5#s«5* Q ^.
Green Wpf. Standard *^ vSyvt- vX

7^x7^x6-7^-2/2. 14 Ibs*^
v.'^^'^J^
9^ X 73^ X 6 - 7]^ - 2/. 16/ lbs. "^ V^"*^^
Weight in other materials may be judged from tables
previously given of other patterns of tents.
One advantage of the baker or camp-fire type is

that, in rainy weather, one has a dry, open space to
move around in, and he can cook under shelter by
building a small fire under the awning and feeding It
a little at a time.
Such a tent is good for commissary quarters in
fixedcamp, as it isopen and handy to work under.
It is not recommended for parties that move fre-
quently, nor for " bad fly-country."
But in a cool climate, where wood Is plentiful and
mosquitoes scarce, then for me the open lean-to or
baker tent, before a hardwood fire, with the free
breath of the forest filling my lungs! Let the sleet
drive ; let the mercury go where it llsteth my axe Is
;
my weapon against old Jack Frost. For me, a hunt-

er's camp without a good log fire, burning all the
night. Is just no camp at all.
But understand all my camping has been where

:
I was free as an Indian to do with the forest what-
ever I pleased. I could cut down and burn any tree,

any number of them —
sweet birch, hickory, white
ash, sugar maple, anything —
heedless of what such
timber might be worth If ever it got to market. I
could burn choice wood when I did not need fire;
burn just for the incense and comradry of It all.
Not so the average camper of to-day. He must
cull old dead no-account stuff that he finds on the
ground — peradventure he even be permitted to light
a fire in the woods at all. Alas the lean-to, and the
!
hissing red logs that cheered us and kept us cosy

through the long frosty nights under the hunter's
moon.
Fig. 64. — Canoe Tent with Pole

Canoe Tents. — The
old pattern canoe tent
(Fig. 64) is erected with a single pole. The front
is semi-circular, and the strain from it, pulling for-
ward, does away with the need of a guy rope, unless
Fig. 65. — Canoe Tent with Ridge
the whole front is left open to the camp-fire, in which

case two guys are run forward on either side of the
fire.
A canoe tent with short ridge is shown in Fig. 65.

suspended bv a rope. When this pattern is used in
the open it is erectea on a pair of shears, as in
Fig. 68.
These models are advertised as " quick and easy
to erect," but a glance at the cuts will show that they
take too many pegs and stakes to really belong in
that category. Still they are very popular, especially
the one with ridge. Dimensions (not including the
rounded front), and weights in various materials, are
tabulated below. Other sizes and cloths are sup-
plied by outfitters. The two patterns do not vary
noticeably in weight.
Tanalite^ Emeralite
7 X4^x6 -i>2 7>4 Ibsc
7Mx7>^x7 -2. 1014 lbs.
8^x7^x7^-3. izYzlhs.
Tang, Nilo
75^x43^x6 -i3^. sHlbs.
7^/2x7^x7 -2. 8H lbs.
9 X9 xj^^-zYz. II lbs.
KiRO, Driki
7 X4^x7 -2. 9^ lbs.
7 X7 X7 -2. 11^ lbs.
9^x9^/^x83^-3. 17 lbs.
Extra Light Green

6^x4^x7 -2. 6^ lbs.
6^/^x63/2x7 -2. 7^ lbs.
8 X 6^x7^ -3. 10 lbs.
Green Egyptian
7^x4^x7 -2. 73^ lbs.
7^x7^x7 -2. 1034 lbs.
9^x73^3x73^-3. 13 lbs.
Green Wpf. Standard

73/^x4^x7 -2. 93>2 lbs.
7^x73^x7 -2. 13 lbs.
9^x73^x7^-3- isMlbs.
" CoMPAC " Tent. —

This is a very light tent
for pedestrians, canoeists, or others who want to get
along with the least practicable outfit. For its size
and weight, I have found it a good thing. It has 9
I04 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
floor sewed to Its walls so, when the door flaps are
;
snapped shut, nothing can get in. You can defy not
only rain and wind, but bugs, flies, spiders, scorpions,
snakes, skunks, wood rats, and all other vermin.
Ventilation is provided by four little windows cov-
ered with bobbinet, with storm flaps that raise or
lower from the inside. The cloth is very closely
woven, and waterproofed. It may be had in tan,
green, or the natural yellowish-white of unbleached
cotton.
Fig. 66— "Compac" Tent
This tent Is easy to set up on any kind of ground.

If a sapling happens to stand peg
in the right place,
out the corners of the floor and suspend the peak by
its cord from a convenient limb. Otherwise, pitch
with shears In front and a pole slanting backward
from them, as shown In Fig. 66. Only a few pegs
are required.
Being so low and so well braced, this pocket house
will stand up against a gale that might overthrow
wall tents and send their flies a-klting. In cold
;
weather It can be warmed by radiation from a

camp
fire in front. accommodate two men and
It will
their duffle. Of course it is only high enough to
sit up in, but that is all the room one needs on such
trips, and it is best for a cloth floored tent anyhow,
for it balks muddy feet. However, I do not like a
sewed-in floor, for general camping. The reasons
are given at the end of this chapter.
I have called this clever contrivance a " pocket-
house." It deserves the name, being waterproof,

wind-proof, bug-proof, ventilated, sheltering a space
Fig. (i"]. — Snow Tent
feet, and yet It rolls up into a 16 x 4-inch

8 X 6 X 4-2
and weighs, with its rope, only 3^ pounds.
parcel,
—
Snow Tent. This pattern (Fig. 67) gets its
name from the steepness of its slopes which makes it
shed snow Instead of holding It. With front flaps
spread as shown. It can be warmed by a fire In front.
The back has a low wâll, and there Is a short ridge
otherwise Its qualities are those of a semi-pyramidal
tent. It Is made In sizes from 6^ x 6^ x 7^^-
2>4 ft. to 9% X 9^ X 7^-2^ ft., and the weights,
in different materials, run from 7^ to 17 lbs.
io6 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
The same model, with sewed-In floor, closed front,
an oval door of bobbinet, and a ventilator, is known
es the " explorer's" tent (Fig. 68)0 It is perfectly
insect-proof. For the tropics a fly is added. A
•^"^''-"^^ ,S^'-<^^-^' cr
Fig. 68.— Explorer's Tent
iarge number of these tents have been used by the

Alaska Boundary Survey and by other scientific ex-
peditions. The vêights complete are only from i^
to 2 lbs. greater than for same size of the snow tent.
Insect-proof Tents. — I have spoken several
times of the desirability of good ventilation in a tent
(the smaller the tent, the stuffier it will be if tightly
enclosed) and of the necessity of protection from in-
sects in their season. The reader who has followed
me thus far can readily understand the construction
of an ideal tent, in these respects, for countries like
Alaska, central Canada, the tropics, and other places
where poisonous or germ-bearing insects abound. I
quote from Emerson Hough:
"The most perfect mosquito tent I ever saw I ran across

this summer for the first time. It was made in a western
city after a design said to have been invented by a mem-
ber of the Geological Survey in Alaska. If it will work
in Alaska it will anywhere. The material was not of
heavy duck, but a light Egyptian cotton sometimes callec
* balloon silk.' In size 7x7, very high in the ridge and
on the walls, the tent in its bag weighs only about 12
pounds. A light waterproof floor is sewn into it. Both
ends are sewn into it. On each side there are two large
netted windows, affording abundant ventilation. There
are flaps arranged for these windows which can be but-
toned down in case of rain.
In each end of this tent there is yet another large
window for ventilation. The roof projects three or four
inches all around over the walls, making eaves which
keep the water out of the open windows in case of rain.
The front door is not a door at all, but a hole, round,
and not triangular. This hole is fitted with a sleeve, like
the trap of a fyke-net, the sleeve, or funnel, itself being
made of light material. You crawl through this hole and,
so to speak, pull it in after you and tie a knot in it. At
least there is a puckering string by which you can close
the bag which makes the entrance of the tent. Once in-
side it, you have a large, roomy house in which you can
stand up with comfort, lay down your beds in comfort,
and do light housekeeping. No mosquito can get at you
unless you brought it in on your clothes. In case you have
done that you can put a wet sock into operation. At first
you will think the lent a little close, but soon will see that
the ventilation is perfect." {Out of Doors).
Sewed-in Floors. —
On the other hand, there
are objections to a sewed-in floor. Muddy boots
make it odious, and hob-nailed ones are its ruin.
Every bit of snow that you track in will help make
a puddle. A
lantern is dangerous in such structures
as the last two we have been considering, and one
must be very careful about matches. In the case
of the explorer's tent, which lacks the windows of
the other, you can't cook inside, even on a vapor
stove, without risk of disaster, and certainty of
steam condensing where it cannot escape. Even
the moisture of one's breath amounts to a good
deal in the course of a night, and in cold weather
it will keep the interior of such a tent constantly
damp or coated with rime. As for the sewed-in
floor serving as a mattress cover, to keep your bed
of browse or leaves in place, if that bed is thick
enough for comfort, the tent will not set well, and
there will be too much strain on the pegs and seams.
So, anywhere but in extremely bad mosquito coun^
is better to
try, or on bleak and windy mountains, it
have a wide sod-cloth around the bottom of the tent,
and a separate ground-sheet, overlapping, that you
can roll aside when you want a bare spot, and can
take out and wash when it needs ito
CHAPTER VII
LIGHT CAMP EQUIPMENT

The problem of what to take on a trip resolves
itself chiefly into a question of transportation. If
the party can travel by wagon, and intends to go
into fixed camp, then almost anything can be carried
along — trunks, chests, big v^âll tents and poles, cots,
mattresses, pots and pans galore, camp stove, kero-
sene, ma<:kintoshes and rubber boots, plentiful
changes of clothing, books, folding bath-tubs what —
you will. Such things are right and proper if you do
not intend to move often from place to place. But
in any case beware of impedimenta that will be for-
ever in the way and seldom or never used.
It is quite another matter to fit out a man or a
party for wilderness travel. First, and above all, be
plain in the woods. In a far way you are emulating
those grim heroes of the past who made the white
man's trails across this continent. We
seek the
woods to escape civilization for a time, and all that
suggests it. Let us sometimes broil our venison on a
sharpened stick and serve it on a sheet of barko It
tastes better. It gets us closer to Nature, and closer
to those good old times when every American was
considered " a man for a' that " if he proved it in a
manful wây. And there is a pleasure in achieving
creditable results by the simplest means. When you
win your own way through the wîlds with axe and
rifle you win at the same time the imperturbability
of a mind at ease with itself in any emergency by
flood or field. Then you feel that you have red
blood in your veins, and that it is good to be free and
log
no CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
out of doors. one of the blessings of wilder-
It is
ness life that it we need in

shows us how few things
order to be perfectly happy.
Let me not be misunderstood as counseling any-
body to *' rough it " by sleeping on the bare ground
and eating nothing but hardtack and bacon. Only
a tenderfoot will parade a scorn of comfort and a
taste for useless hardships. As " Nessmuk " says:
" We do not go to the woods to rough it we go to ;
smooth it —
we get it rough enough in town. But
let us live the simple, natural life in the woods, and
leave all frills behind."
An old campaigner is known by the simplicity and
fitness of hisequipment. He carries few " fixings,"
but every article has been well tested and it is the
best that his purse can afford. He has learned by
hard experience how steep are the mountain trails
and how tangled the undergrowth and downwood
in the primitive forest. He has learned, too, how to
" "
fashion on the spot many substitutes for boughten
things that we consider necessary at home.
The art of going " light but right " is hard to
learn. never knew a camper who did not burden
I
himself, atfirst, with a lot of kickshaws that he did
not need in the woods; nor one who, if he learned

anything, did not soon begin to weed them out nor ;
even a veteran who ever quite attained his own ideal

of lightness and serviceability. Probably " Ness-
"
muk came as near to it as any one, after he got
that famous ten-pound canoe. He said that his
load, including canoe, knapsack, blanket-bag, extra
clothing, hatchet, rod, and two days' rations,
" never exceeded twenty-six pounds ; and I went
prepared to camp out any and every night." This,
of course, was in summer.
In the days when game was plentiful and there
were no closed seasons our frontiersmen thought
nothing of making long expeditions into the unknown
wilderness with no equipment but what they carried
on thetir own persons, to wit: a blanket, rifles ammu-
LIGHT CAMP EQUIPMENT in'
nition, flintand steel, tomahawk, knife, an awl, a
spare pair of moccasins, perhaps, a small bag of
jerked venison, and another of parched corn, ground
"
to a coarse meal, which they called " rockahominy
or " coal flour." Their tutors in woodcraft often
traveled lighter than An Indian runner would
this.
strip to his G-string and moccasins, roll up in his
small blanket a pouch of rockahominy, and, armed
only with a bow and arrows, he would perform jour-
neys that no mammal but a wolf could equal. Gen-
eral Clark said that when he and Lewis, with their
men, started afoot from the mouth of the Columbia
River on their return trip across the continent, their
total store of articles for barter with the Indians for
horses and food could have been tied up in two hand-
kerchiefs. But they wêre woodsmen, every inch ot
them.
Now it is not needful nor advisable for a camper
in our time to suffer hardships from stinting his sup-

plies. It is foolish to take insufficient bedding, or to
rely upon a diet of pork, beans, and hardtack, in a
country where game may be scarce. The knack is in
striking a happy medium between too much luggage
and too little. Ideal outfitting is to have what we
want, when we want it, and not to be bothered with
anything else. A pair of scales are good things to
have at hand when one is making up his packs.
Scales of another kind will then fall from his eyes.
He wîll note how the unconsidered trifles
little,
mount up how every bag

; or tin adds weight.
Now let him imagine himself toiling uphill under an
August sun, or forging through thickety woods, over
rocks and roots and fallen trees, with all this stuff
on his back. Again, let him think of a chill, wet
night ahead, and of what he will really need to keep
himself warm, dry, and well ballasted amidships.
Balancing these two prospects one against the other,
he cannot go far wrong in selecting his outfit.
In his charming book. The Forest, Stewart Ed-
ward White has spoken of that amusing foible, com-
112 CAMPING AND WOODUKAFI-
mon to us all,which compels even an experienced
woodsman some pet trifle that he does
to lug along
not need, but which he would be miserable without.
The more absurd this trinket is, the more he loves it.
One of my camp-mates for five seasons carried in
his " packer " a big chunk of rosin. When asked
what it was for, he confessed " Oh,
: I'm going to
get a fellow to make me a turkey-call, some day, and
this is to make it turk.' "
*
Jew's-harps, camp-
stools, shaving-mugs, alarm-clocks, derringers that
nobody could hit anything with, and other such
trifles have been known to accompany very practical
men who were otherwise in light marching order.
If you have some such thing that you know you
can't sleep well without, stow it religiously in your
kit. It is your " medicine," your amulet against the
spooks and bogies of the woods. It will dispel the
koosy-oonek. (If you don't know what that means,
ask an Eskimo. He may tell you that it means sor-
cery, witchcraft —
and so, no doubt, it does to the
children of nature; but to us children of guile it is
the spell of that imp who hides our pipes, steals our
last match, and brings rain on the just when they
want to go fishing.)
No two men have the same " medicine." Mine is
a porcelain teacup, minus the handle. It cost me
much trouble to find one that would fit snugly inside
the metal cup in which I brew my tea. Many's the
time it has all but slipped from my fingers and
dropped upon a rock many's the gibe I have suf-
;
fered for its dear sake. But I do love it. Hot in-
deed must be the sun, tangled the trail and weary
the miles, before I forsake thee, O my frail, cool-
lipped, but ardent teacup!
There something to be said in favor of indi-
is
vidual outfits, every man going completely equipped

and quite independent of the others. It is one of
the delights of single-handed canoeing, whether 50U
go alone or cruise in squadron, that every man is
fixed to suit himself. Then if any one carries too
much or too little, or cooks badly, or is too lazy to
be neat, or lacks torethought in any way, he alone
suffers the penalty; and this is but just. On the
other hand, if one of the cruisers' outfits comes to
grief, the others can help him out, since all the eggs
are not in one basket. I like to have a complete
camping outfit of my own, just big enough for two
men, so that I can dispense a modest hospitality to
a chance acquaintance, or take with me a comrade
who, through no fault of his own, turns up at the
last moment; but I want this outfit to be so light
and compact that I can easily handle it myself when
I am alone. Then I am
alwaAS " fixed," and al-
ways independent, come good or ill, blow high or
low.
Still, it is among campers to have
the general rule
" company stores." In so far as this means only
those things that all use in common, such as tent,
utensils, tools, and provisions, it is well enough but ;
it should be a point of honor with each and every
man to carry for himself a complete kit of personal

necessities, down to the least detail. As for com-
pany stores, everybody should bear a hand in collect-
ing and packing them. To saddle this hard and
thankless job on one man, merely because he Is ex-
perienced and a willing worker, is selfish. Depend
upon It, the fellow who " hasn^t time " to do his
share of the work before starting will be the very
one to shirk in camp.
Axe. —A full-sized axe should be carried, In cold
weather, if means of transportation permit. Its
head need not weigh over 3 or 3^ pounds, but let
the handle be of standard 36-inch length for a full-
arm sweep. A
single-bitt Is best for campers, as the
poll is useful for driving stakes, knocking off pine
knots, to rive timber (striking with a mallet), and
as an anvil (bitt stuck In a log or stump). ^
With this one tool a good axeman can build any-

thing that is required in the wilderness, and he can
quickly fell and log-up a tree large enough to
keep a hot fire before his lean-to throughout the
night.
If an axe Is bought ready handled, see that the
helve is of young growth hickory, straight grained,!
and free from knots. Sight along the back of the'

helve to see if it is straight in line with the eye of
the axe, then turn it over and see if the edge of the
axe ranges exactly in line with the center of the
hilt (rear end of handle), as it should, and that the
hilt is at rightangles to the center of the eye. A
good chopper as critical about the heft and hang
is
of his axe as a shooter is about the balance of his

gun. If the handle is straight, score a 2]5^-foot
rule on it, in inches. Get the axe ground by a
careful workman. The edge is not thin
store
enough or keen enough. One
cannot be too careful
in selecting this indispensable tool: some grades are
of the best steel and hand-forged, but many others
are just " bum."
Have a leather sheath for the axe-head, to prevent
accidents when traveling. Some are made with
strap attached for carrying on one's back, but this is
needless : few cases that you carry an axe that
in the
way, outside of pack with a string.
tie it to
An axe lying around camp has a fatal attraction
for men who do not know how to use it. Not that
they will do much chopping with it; but somebody
will pick it up, make
a few bungling whacks at a
projecting root, or at a stick lying flat on the
ground, drive the blade through into the earth and
pebbles, and leave the edge nicked so that it will
take an hour's hard work to put it in decent ordei
again. And the fellow who
does this is the one
who could not sharpen an axe to save his life. It
never seems to occur to him that an axe is of no use
unless its edge is kept keen, or that the best way to
ruin it is to strike it into the ground, or that a chop-
ping block will prevent that. You may loan your
last dollar to a friend but never loan him your axe,
;
unless you are certain that he knows how to use it.

LIGHT CAMP EQUIPMENT ny
If a full-^rown axe cannot be carried, then take a
hatchet with handle as long as practicable (see
Chapter X).
Other Tools. — A small
spade, or an army en-
trenching tool, is a handy implement about camp.
One outfitter has produced a good thing in this line
which he calls a trekking spade. The handle is de-
tachable. In shoveling hot coals at the fire-place,
work quickly, so as not to draw the temper of the
steel.
A useful tool, when
it can be carried, is one I
found recently in the catalogue of a certain mail-

order house: a nail-cutting compass saw (just like
any compass saw except that it is tempered for nails,
sheet metal, etc., as well as wood), with 12-inch
blade and weighing only 5 ounces. It can be used,
too, in butchering big game, saving
your axe edge. A
folding saw, sold
by sporting-goods dealers, will do
well enough in most outfits.
If you want to weigh the game
you kill, carry what is called a Lit-
tle Giant scale (Fig. 69). Al-
though of pocket size and 12-oz.
weight, it wêighs by the small hook
up to 40 lbs. by 2 lbs., and by the
larger one up to 350 lbs. by 5 lbs.
For fish, of course, a small spring
balance is the thing-
A pair of side-cutting pliers, of
the very beststeel, is almost a neces-
always carry a small one
sity. I
when fishing, to snip off the barb of
Fig. 69. Little —
Giant Scale
an imbedded hook, which otherwise
is a mighty mean thing to get rid of. The pliers
are in daily use for other purposes.
A 6 to 8-inch mill file, and a carborundum stone,
will keep the axe and other cutlerv in order. (A
mill file is cut diagonally and parallel, instead of
criss-cross like a common flat file.),.
ii6 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Select from the following list such articles as you
know you will need, and make a light wooden box
in which they will stow properly.
Folding Saw. Gun or Rifle Cleaning Rod

Mill File. and Brush.
Triangular File. Gun Oil.
Side-cutting Pliers. Gun Wipers.
Carborundum Stone. Sandpaper.
Scales. Emery Cloth.
Gun Screw-driver. Shears.
Reel Screw-driver. Needles.
Small Hand Drill. Thread.
Tape Line. Wax.
Copper Wire (two sizes). Spare Buttons.
Nails, Brads, Tacks, Safety Pins,
Screws. Horse-blanket Pins.
J/2 gill Le Page's
Glue. Rubber Bands (large).
Marine Glue. Spare Shoe Laces.
Solderene. Lock-stitch Awl.
Winding Silk (or Dental Shoe Nails.
Floss). Hob-nails.
Rod Varnish. Sail Needles.
Ferrule Cement. Twine (in tobacco bag).
Spare Tips and Guides. Split Rivets,
Rubber Mending Tissue. lo yds. 2-inch Adhesive
Plaster.
Adhesive plaster (zinc oxide plaster) can be

bought at any drug store. Besides its regular use to
hold a dressing in place where bandaging is difficult
(never apply it directly to a wound), and for pro-
tecting sore spots, such as a cut finger or a blistered
foot, it is a lightning repairer for all sorts of things.
When warmed it will stick to any dry surface, wood,
metal, glass, cloth, leather, or skin. It can be
peeled off and reapplied several times. As an in-
stantaneous mender of rents and stopper of holes or
cracks it has no equal. It is waterproof and air-
tight. With a broad strip you can seal a box or
chest watertight, stop a leak in a canoe (" iron " it
on with a hot spoon or stone) or mend a paddle, a
gunstock, or even an axe-handle (first nailing it).
A chest or cupboard can be extemporized from any
;
LIGHT CAMP EQUIPMENT 117

packing box, in a ji%, by cleating the top and using
surgeon's plaster for hinges.
One of the most bothersome things in shifting
camp to secure opened cans and bottles from spill-
is
ing. Surgeon's plaster does the trick in a twinkling.

Put a little square of it over each hole in the milk
can that jôu opened for breakfast, and there will be
no leakage. To hold a cork in a bottle, stick a
narrow strip of the plaster over the cork and down
opposite sides of the bottle's neck. To protect the
bottle from breaking, run a strip around it at top
and one at bottom. The caps of baking powder
cans or similar tins can be secured to the bodies in
the same way.
If your fishing rod sticks at the ferrules, wrap a
bit of the plaster around each joint to give you a
grip, then pull without twisting.
Rubber mending tissue (any dry-goods store) is
good to patch a tent, a canoe, or rubber articles
(waders, etc.). Cut canvas patch and tissue ol
same size, place the latter over rent and the patch
on top, then press with a hot iron or rub with a hot,
smooth stone.
Dental floss is fine for quick rod repairing, or to
use as an emergency leader. It is very strong, ready
waxed, waterproof, and durable.
The list of tools and supplies given above is, of
course, only suggestive, and for trips where the
going is fairly easy. To
each according to his needs.
When traveling with horses, take along a ham-
mer, a few spare horseshoes and their nails, leather
mending kit, and the necessary ropes.
Lantern. —
Kerosene is a nuisance in carriage
if so much as a drop escapes anywhere near your
provisions, it wn'll taint them. Carbide is easy to

carry, and, aside regular use in an acetylene
from its
lantern, makes it easy to start a fire when everything

is wet. A
folding pocket lantern of Stonebridge or
Alpina type, for candles, is best for men in light
ii8 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
marching order; but let it be of tin or brass; those
made of aluminum are much too frail.
Horn. — When camping in a canebrake country

have a huntsman's horn in the outfit. Leave it with
the camp-keeper, who wnll blow it every evening
about an hour before supper. The sound of a horn
carries far, and its message is unmistakable. It is
a dulcet note to one who is bewildered in a thick
wood or brake.
Sundries. —A
length of small rope, such as
braided sash cord, and a ball of strong twine, spare
cloth and leather for mending, a few rawhide
thongs, and some broad rubber bands, are likely to
be needed.
A few yards of mosquito netting should be taken
along to protect meat from blow-flies, and for vari-
ous other purposes.
Cooking Kit. —
In rough country, especially if
camp is to be shifted frequently, a stove is out of the
reckoning. If pack animals are taken, or the trip is
by canoe, without long and difficult portages, it pays
to take along either a folding grate or a pair of fire
irons (see Chapter IV).
On marching trips no support for the uten-
light
sils will be carried. Rocks or logs will take their
place. There may be a little more spilling and
swearing, but less tired backs.
It is commonly agreed that four is the ideal num^
ber for a camping party, at least among hunters and
fishermen. Certainly no larger number should at-
tempt their own cooking. Utensils and table ware
for such a party, going light, should include: a
large frying-pan (more serviceable than two small
ones) a pan to mix dough in and wash dishes (com-
;
mon milk pan) a stout, seamless, covered pot for

;
boiling or stewing meat, baking beans, etc. a ;
medium pot or pail for hot water (always wanted,

substitute for tea kettle) a smaller one for cereals,
;
vegetables, fruit and either a coffee pot low enough

;
to nest in the latter, or a covered pail in its place.

T:TGHT camp EQUIrMENT 119
There should be six plates (two for serving) and
four each of cups, knives, forks, teaspoons, table-
spoons. This is about as little as the party can well
get along with.
It will be bothersome to bake bread for four in
the frying-pan. Add a reflector or a sheet-steel
oven, if practicable. A
wire broiler, a tea perco-
lator, and a corkscrew and can opener will nest with
this set. If the cook wears no sheath knife a
butcher knife is essential. Several dish towels
(some to be divided into clouts) and a couple of
yards of cheesecloth for straining and to hang meat
in should be taken. Sapolio will be needed, or Bon
Ami if the utensils are of aluminum.
The common utensils of the shops will not nest.
They are all spouts and handles, bail ears and cover
knobs. Still, a good deal can be done by substitu-
tion. Covered pails or pots (Fig. 70) do the work
Fig. 70.— Fig. 71.— Fig. 72.— Fig. 73-—

Cooking Pot Pot Chain Coffee Pot Miner's
Coffee Pot
of sauce pans and kettles, and are better all round,

for they can either be set upon the coals or hung
above the fire besides, you can carry water in them,
;
and their covers keep heat in and ashes out. All

such vessels should be low and broad then they will ;
boil quickly and pack well. Good proportions are:

3 quarts diameter 6^ in. x 5]^ in,
"
height.
4 " .... " 7^" xsM " "
6 " .... " 8^" x6^
"
8 " .... " 9M" X7^
Bail ears should project as little as possible.
Lids should have fold-down rings instead of knobs,
so they will nest well.
A set of pot-chains with hooks (Fig. 74) is worth
taking. With one of these (weight 2 oz.) a kettle
can be suspended at any desired height above the
fire.
Ordinary coffee pots are not suitable for camping.

A good pattern for the purpose is shown in Fig. 72.
It has a bail, folding handles, and a solid spout that
cannot melt off. A cheaper but very good article in
tin (Fig. 73) is known as a "miner's coffee pot."
When very compact nesting is sought, discard the
coffee pot for a lidded pail: it has the merit that no
aroma escapes through a spout. For tea, have an
aluminum tea-ball then you will not commit the
;
cardinal sin of steeping the leaves too long.

Cups, to nest inside the coffee pot, have the lowe'
part of the handle free (Fig. 74). In tin, tht^
13^-pint size is best (5 x in.). 2%
Small cups and
small plates are impertinences to anybody with a
woods appetite. Tin is not so bad for coffee, but
aluminum blisters the unwary mouth. Enamel is
best for cups and plates, no matter what the mate-
rial of the rest of the kit may be. It is so much
easier to clean than tin or aluminum. If the plates
are deep and generous (9^-inch soup plates, nest-
Fig 74. — Cup Fig. 75. — Miller Frying Pan
ing in the frying-pan) there will be no need of

bowls for soup and porridge.
The frying-pan handle is a perennial problem.
If detachable, it is likely to be lost. The best fold-
ing handled pan that I have used is the Miller pat-
tern (Fig. 75). A
common pan may be adapted
by cutting off all but two inches of the handle and
riveting a square socket to the top of the stub so
that a stick may be fitted to it when you cook (if
the socket is round the

stick will twist unless care-
fully fitted). prefer the folding handle, because
I
it saves time, and, on the very few occasions when
one needs a long stick for handle, he can insert it in
the rings of the Miller handle. Get a pan with
hinge that won't work loose.
Some sort of baker is almost essential for comfort-
able life in the woods. The most portable form is
the folding reflector sold by most outfitters. It is
similar to those that our great-grandmothers used to
bake biscuit in, before a hearth fire. The top slants
like a shed roof, and the bottom like another shed
roof turned upside down, the bread pan being in
the middle. The slanting top and bottom reflect
heat downward upon the top of the baking and up-
ward against its bottom, so that bread, for instance^
bakes evenly all around.
Aprime advantage of this cunning utensil is that
baking can proceed immediately when the fire i?
kindled, without waiting for the wood to burn down
to coals, and without danger of burning the dough.
Fish, flesh, and fowl can be roasted to a turn in this
contrivance. It has several better points than an
oven, chief of which is its portability, as it folds flat;
but it is inferior for corn bread, army biead, etc,
and impossible for pot-roasts or braising. How
to
use it Is shown in Chapter XVI.
Fig. 76.— Fig. 77.— Fig. 78.—

Reflector Reflector Reflector
(Angular Back) (Flat Back) (Folded in Case)
There are two models of reflectors, one with a

single joint at the rear (Fig. 76), the other with
two (Fig. 77) and a flat back. The latter is more
compact, but not so stiff as the other.
These ovens may be bought in tin or aluminum*
Tin Aluminum Aluminum
9x12 pan. 4 lbs. 8x12 pan. 2 lbs. i2x 15 open. 2 lbs»
ix X I4pan. 5^2 lbs. 8 x 18 pan. 2% lbs. 15 x 18 open. 3 lbs.
10x18 pan. 5 lbs. 15 X 24 open. 4 lbs.
An 8x i2-in. pan hold's just a dozen biscuits.

A canvas carrying case is needed,
(Fig. 78) w^hich
for the baker adds another pound.
is frail, wire A
broiler packs inside the reflector; it is not necessary
for broiling meat, but it is handy for the purpose,
end especially for broiling fish.
A reflector must be kept bright to do good baking.
The sheet steel oven shown in Fig. 79 is much
cheaper than a reflector. It con-
sists oftwo halves that nest, each
4x12 inches, and a perforated shelf
on which a roast or a bake-pan
may be placed. It is managed like
„.
Fig. 79. — a
1
Dutch oven (see Chapter
. .
XX),
1
Sheet Steel Oven '^^^ requires more attention, as the

material is thin. A reflector is
better for the amateur, as he cari see at all times

how the baking or roasting progresses.
Men who have neither time nor inclination to
rummage the stores for " calamities " that will nest
would do well to pay extra for outfits already kitted
by camp outfitters. Using one outfitter's sets for
illustration, we are offered:
In "Armor- In "Alum-
Set for Size, nested steel" inol"
Two persons.. 9^ x 8^ in. 6^ lbs. $4.00 6^ lbs. $9.85
Four persons.. 10 x 11^ in. 12 lbs. 6.25 lo^g lbs. 16.60
Six persons... II x 12% in. 17^ lbs. 8.50 17^ lbs. 26.50
Eight persons. II x 12% in. 19^ lbs. 9.40 18^ lbs. 30.00
In the four-men and eight-men sets the coffee

pots will be found rather stingy. An 8x18 folding
aluminum reflector, broiler, canvas case, butcher
knife, cooking spoon, percolator, and canvas ivater
bucket, would add exactly 4^ pounds weight and
$6.90 to the price.
Such sets as these are very nice for what I may

call confirmed campers; but if the party is likely to
split up after the first trip, and no one cares to buy
a first-class outfit for future use, go to the depart-
ment store and get, in tin or enameled ware, the
articles I have listed. The reflector you must order
from an outfitter, or make for yourself.
CHAPTER VIIT
CAMP BEDDING
One's health and comfort in camp depend very
much upon what kind of bed he has. In nothing
does a tenderfoot show off more discreditably than
in his disregard of the essentials of a good night's
rest. He comes into camp after a hard day's tramp,
sweating and tired, eats heartily, and then throws
himself down in his blanket on the bare ground.
For a time he rests in supreme ease, drowsily satis-
fied that this is the proper way to show that he can
" rough it," and that no hardships of the field can
daunt his spirit. Presently, as his eyes grow heavy
and he cuddles up for the night, he discovers that
a sharp stone is boring into his flesh. He shifts
about, and rolls upon a sharper stub or projecting
root. Cursing a little, he arises and clears the
ground of his tormentors. Lying down again, he
drops off peacefully and is soon snoring. An hour
passes, and he rolls over on the other side; a half
hour, and he rolls back again into his former posi-
tion ten minutes, and he rolls again then he tosses^
; ;
groans, wâkes up, and finds that his hips

fidgets,
and shoulders ache from serving as piers for the
arches of his back and sides.
He gets up, muttering, scoops out hollows to re-
ceive the projecting portions of his frame, and again
lies down. An hour later he reawakens, this time
with shivering fleshand teeth a-chatter. How cold
the ground is! The blanket over him is sufficient
cover, but the same thickness beneath, compacted by
his weight and in contact with the cold earth, is not
124
CAMP BEDDING 125
half enough to keep out the bone-searching chill that
comes up from the damp ground. This will never
do. Pneumonia or rheumatism may follow. He
arises, this time for good, passes a wretched night
before the fire, and dawn finds him a haggard, worn-
out type of misery, disgusted with camp life and
eager to hit the back trail for home.
The moral is plain. Thissort of roughing it is
bad enough when one is compelled to submit to it.
It kills twice as many soldiers as bullets do. When

it isendured merely to show off one's fancied tough-
ness and hardihood it is rank folly. Even the dumb
beasts know better, and they are particular about
making their beds.
This matter of a good portable bed is the most
serious problem in outfitting. A man can stand
almost any hardship by day, and be none the worse
for it, provided he gets a comfortable night's rest;
but without sound sleep he will soon go to pieces, no
matter how gritty he may be.
In selecting camp bedding we look for the most
warmth with the least w-êight and bulk, for dura-
bility under hard usage, and for stuff that will not
hold moisture long, but will dry out easily.
Warmth depends upon insulation. The best
insulation is given by dry air confined in the inter-
stices of the covering, this covering being thick
enough to keep one's animal heat from escaping too
readily.
Of course, materials vary in conductivity cot- —
ton and other vegetable fibers being coldest, silk and
wool warmer, fur and feathers warmest of all —
but, irrespective of materials, the degree of insula-
tion afforded by a covering depends upon its fluffi-
ness, or looseness of texture, and its thickness of
body. This means bulk; there is no way of get-
ting around it there must be room for confined air.
;
Innumerable expedients have been tried to keep

down bulk by using impermeable insulators, such
as oaper, oiled cotton or silk, and rubber or rubber-
•
126 CAMPING AND WOODCRAF-l-

ized fabric, but all such " skins to keep heat in " are
total failures. The vapor from one's body must
have an outlet or a man vrill chill, to say nothing of
other unpleasant consequences.
The degree of insulation afforded by confined
air may be judged roughly by a few comparisons.
Here is a pack cloth of close-woven cotton duck;
there is a cotton bed comforter of the same spread
and weight, but thicker, of course. Size, weights,
and materials are the same, yet what a difference in
warmth! Well, it is just the enclosed air that
makes the comforter "comfy," and lack of it that
leaves the canvas cold as a covering. Similarly, a
three-pound comforter filled with lamb's wool bat-
ting is as warm as a five-pound all-wool blanket, be-
cause it holds more dead air. Down filling is still
warmer than wool, being fluffier, and its elasticity
keeps it so —
it does not mat from pressure.
After a cotton comforter has been used a long

time, or kept tightly rolled up, its batting becomes
matted down and then the cover is no warmer than
a quilt of equal weight. Quilts —ugh! In the
dank bedroom of a backwoods cabin, where the
" kivvers " were heirlooms, but seldom had been
aired, I have heaped those quilts on me till their
very weight made my bones ache, and still shivered
miserably through the long winter night.
Batting of any sort (but cotton the worst) will
also mat from wet, and then its elasticity is gone.
Water, moreover, is a good conductor of heat, and
so a bed covering of any kind is cold when it is wet.
Note this, also, that the weight of one's body
presses out a good deal of air from the bedding
under him. Moreover, earth, being a good con
ductor, draws off one's animal heat faster than th^
air does. So, when sleeping on the ground, on&
needs more bedding underneath than over him —
a cold, hard fact that some designers of sleeping
bags have unaccountably overlooked. A bag with
two thicknesses of blanket over the sleeper and only
CAMP BEDDiNa i2>
one under him Is built upside-down. The man will

have at least part of his back only half protected i
and one's vertebral region is the very part of him

that is most vulnerable to cold.
Blankets.— The warmest blanket for its weight
is not a close-woven one but one that is loose-woven
and fluffy. An army blanket is made for hard serv-
ice, and so must be of firm weave, but a third of its
Weight is added for that purpose only, not forV.
jvarmth. For use in a sleeping bag, where they are
protected from wear, blankets of more open tex- /
ture are better. Two three-pound blankets arc/*
Warmer than a six-pound one of the same grade/
owing to the thin stratum of air between them.
Hence the best bags are made up of several layers
of light, fluff>' blanketing, instead of a thick, felted
bag.
Camp blankets should be all-wool. A cotton or
part-cotton one much more prone to absorb moist-
is
ure from the damp woods air and to hold that which
exudes from the body of the sleeper, hence it is
clammier and colder than wool. The difference
may not be so noticeable in the dry air of a heated
bedroom, but it will quickly make itself felt in the
woods. Another bad quality of cotton is that fire
will spread through it from an ember cast out by the
camp-fire, whereas the coal would merely burn a
hole in wool.
The warmest blankets for their weight are those
made of camel's hair. They are expensive, but one
of them is as much protection as two common
woolen blankets. They are favorites among ex-
perienced travelers all over the world.
Hudson Bay blankets have a well-justified repu-
tation, being much like the well-nigh everlasting
products of the old hand-loom. Their size is dis-
tinguished by " poinds
"^
(four points, three-and-a-
half points, three points) and they are marked ac-
cordingly by black bars in one corner.
Blankets should be of dark or neutral color, sC
as not to show dirt or attract Insects. If used with-
out a canvas cover they may well be waterproofed
with lanolin, by the process that I will describe in
the next chapter.
To roll up in a blanket in such a way that you will
stay snugly wrapped, lie down and draw the blanket
over you like a coverlet, lift the legs without bend-
ing at the knee, and tuck first one edge smoothly
under your legs then the other. Lift your hips and
do the same there. Fold the far end under your
feet. Then wrap the free edges similarly around
your shoulders one under the other. You will
learn to do this without bunching, and will find
yourself in a sort of cocoon.
Often it convenient to use a blanket as a gar
is
ment while drying out your clothes, or as a cape in

cold weather. Wear it as a Mexican does his
serape. As a bed blanket is larger than a serape,
one end must first be folded, say about two feet,
depending upon size and your own height. This
fold being turned under, stand with your back
toward the blanket and draw its right-hand corner
snugly up under the right armpit so that the triangle
hangs down in front of you, and hold it firmly
there. With left hand then draw the blanket up
over left shoulder from behind, tight against nape
of neck, and down in front. That leaves the left
corner trailing on the ground before you. With a
quick flirt throw this corner up over right shoulder
and let it hang down your back, where it will stay
of its own weight. You are now wrapped up but
with right arm free. The blanket can be cast off
in an instant
Comforters. —
Sometimes these are miscalled
quilts, but they are knotted together instead ol
quilted, and have thicker, fluffier filling than quilts.
Cotton comforters are wholly unsuitable for out-
door use. They are warm only when perfectly dry,
and it is impossible to keep them so in the damp air
of a forest. But a comforter filled with wool bat*-
CAMP BEDDING 129
ting is very warm for Its weight and does not take
up moisture so readily. It is cheaper than a blan-

ket, and makes a softer bed, but is bulkier. Com-
forters are much used by Western campers, along
with a canvas " tarp." Whenever extreme com-
pactness of outfit is not necessary, I recommend that
each member of a party take v/ith him a wool com-
forter, even if for no other use than as a mattress.
Warmest of all coverings of this sort are the so-
called eiderdown quilts (leally goose down). They
are expensive, and must be carefully protected from
the wet.
Sleeping Bags. — There
is a good deal of waste
material in blankets and comforters, especially at the

foot end. Suppose we cut them into a sort of coffin
shape, to conform to the outlines of the body, sew
up a side and an end and the lower third of the
other side, then attach buttons or laces or clasps to
close the bag after one has got into it. good dealA
of weight and bulk are saved.
'^he objections are that such an arrangement is
hard to air and dry out, it is not readily adjustable
to varying temperatures, and the occupant has a
feeling of constraint when cooped up in the thing=
Still, in some kinds of camping, it is essential that
the bed be very warm, waterproof, windproof, and
yet as portable as possible. Hence the sleeping bag.
It may be laid down as an axiom at the start that
no sleeping bag is worthy of serious notice unless its
blankets or other lining can be removed quickly and
soread out on a line to dry. A
lining sewed inside
a waterproof cover is an abomination. So is a nest
of blanket bags that can only be aired by propping
each one open with a stick. Such things get musty
and dirty. They are so bothersome to air that they
will be neglected.
Of course, if the bag is of but a single thickness it
may be sunned on the outside and then turned

first
rnside out. But no single bag is practical, exceot

fnr a polar climate, when one adopts fur basr •*'
Bedding, to be comfortable and healthful, must be
adaptable to variations of temperature. Remember
that the night gets colder and colder till daylight.
This is much more noticeable out-of-doors than in-
doors, and yet, even at home, when one goes to bed
he generally has a spare cover handy to pull over
him towards morning.
Now a tent is far less insulated than a house.
So if one muffles himself up when he goes to bed in
enough covering to meet the last few hours before
dawn, he will soon be roasted out, whereas if he
has only enough bedding for comfort through the
first watches of the night, he will find the last one
his watch in literal truth, for he won't sleep. The
only sleeping bag worth talking about is one that
Fig. 80. — D. T. Abercrorabie Sleeping Bag
has at least four layers of blanketing. Then ones

can turn in under one layer and the canvas; in the
cold hours after midnight, he can emerge and crawl
back under more cover (Fig. 80).
It is from lack of attention to these simple and
obvious requirements that most designers of sleep-
ing bags have failed. They have turned out con-
trivances that either were insufferably hot in the
early part of the night or confoundedly cold before
mornmg.
The explorer, Anthony Fiala, who has patented
an extremely light and warm bag for use in high
latitudes (Fig. 81), claims that not only the bag
itself but its cover should be porous so as to throw
off the bodilv moisture which otherwise condenses
CAMP BEDDING I3T
ground the sleeper and chills him. So he uses plain

khaki for a bag cover instead of waterproofed mate^
rial. However, his type of sleeping bag is a snugger
" fit " than the average, and so arranged with hood
and closing flaps that it ventilates only through the
cloth itself. The larger and heavier bags commonly
used are roomy enough to provide considerable ven-
tilation from the unconscious wriggling of the
sleeper. Besides, the cover, though waterproof, is
not impermeable to air, as rubber or oilskin would
be.
If several layers of blanketing are used within ?
roomy cover of waterproofed canvas the outer layer
will take up what little *'
sweating " occurs inside
Fig. 8i. — Fiala Sleeping Bag

the canvas. Such a cover is desirable to protect the
occupant from damp ground, from moist air, and
from rain when he bivouacs away from camp. It
also keeps the bedding dry while en route, as, for
example, in a boat or canoe when water is shipped.
If the bag is opened out and its lining sunned fre-
quently, as should be done with any sort of bedding,
no trouble from condensed moisture will be experi-
enced in ordinary climates.
I have spoken of fur bags. They are much too
hot for our climate, except in the high mountains
where one must bivouac perhaps in wind and snow.
The warmest of all coverings for its weight is a
bag made of caribou nr reindeer-skin. The hair of
this animal is extraordinarily close and thick, and
each hair is hollow, like a quill, and contains air
(this is true of the whole deer family). Caribou
pelts are in their prime when in the summer coat,
inAugust and early September. After this the hair
becomes too long and brittle. Skins of young ani-
mals should be used, being lighter than those of old
ones, although almost as warm, and their hair is
less liable to come out under conditions of dampness.
They weigh about the same per square foot as rac-
coon or goat-skms (4^ to 5 ounces, as compared
with 63^ for wolf and 7 for black bear, on the
average). A bag made from such skins will weigh
about twelve pounds, from the adult caribou about
sixteen pounds. Sleeping bags m.ade in Norway
from skins of domesticated reindeer could be pur-
chased, before the war, through the Army and Navy
stores in London for about £5. Alaska reindeer
skins can be bought from trading firms in Seattle.
In the old Book of Camping and Woodcraft I
discoursed as follows re sleeping bags:
It is snug, for a while, to be laced up in a bag, but not

so snug when you roll over and find that some aperture
at the top is letting a stream of cold air run down your
spine, and that your weight and cooped-upness prevent you
from readjusting the bag to your comfort. Likewise a
sleeping bag may be an unpleasant trap to be in when a
squall springs up suddenly at night, or the tent catches
fire.
I think that one is more likely to catch cold when emerg-
ing from a stuffy sleeping bag into the cold air than if he
had slept between loose blankets. A waterproof cover
without any opening except where your nose sticks out is
no more wholesome to sleep in than a rubber boot is
wholesome for one's foot. Nor is such a cover of much
practical advantage, except underneath. The notion that
it is any substitute for a roof overhead, on a rainy night,
is a delusion.
Blankets can be wrapped around one more snugly, they
do not condense moisture inside, and they can be thrown
open instantly in case of alarm. In blankets you can sleep
double in cold weather. Taking it all in all, I choose the
separate bed tick, pillow bag, poncho, and blanket, rather
than the same bulk and weight of any kind of sleeping
CAxMP BEDDINr^ 133
bag that I have so far experimented with. There may
be better bags that I have not tried.
In his excellent book on The Way of the Woodsy,

Dr. Edward Breck replied:
" I have always looked up to Mr. Kephart as a woods-
man sans reproche, but I am forced to believe that he has
never made fair trial of a good sleeping bag; for, if there
is one thing a bag does not do, it is letting in streams of
cold air down your spine, and, to me at least it almost
goes without saying that a man is wrapped up much more
tightly in blanicets than in a bag, and hence far more help-
less to rearrange his bed without pulling things to pieces.
It is just precisely the ability to turn over in comfort that
makes me love a sleeping bag, and this springs from its
general stay-puttedness.' As for the stuffiness of a bag I
'
confess I have yet to discover it. A

proper bag opens
down the side and ventilates easily. It is a little more
difficult to air out in the morning, but not much. The
comparison with a rubber boot is most unjust, and, though
harder to get into, it takes no longer to do so than to wrap
oneself up properly in blankets. As to getting caught in-
side if a fire breaks out, I will engage to get outside of
mine [a 'Comfort sleeping pocket'] in less than three
seconds if necessary. The sleeping bag has come to
stay. My Indians have made themselves a couple out of
blankets and waterproof canvas. Mr. Kephart asserts
that the waterproof cover is no substitute for a roof over-
head on a rainy night; and yet I can assure him that I
have slept out in mine without a tent many times in hard
rain without getting wet in the slightest degree, except
when rising. Imagine, if you please, the state I should
have been in with blankets only. A
lean-to of some kind
would have been imperative, and even then misery would
have been the result. Of course, spending the night with-
out some kind of shelter is not to be recommended, but my
experience shows what the bag is capable of."
As for the roof overhead, I meant was that

what
gun and and so do you when
duffel need protection,
you crawl out on a rainy morning. The weight of
a sleeping-bag cover put into a little waterproof tent
that you can carry in your pocket, and a ground
sheet to go with it, will give you better protection
from the elements at night and a sheltered place to
dress and cook breakfast in. This for side tripl
from camp, or for long hikes.
Otherwise It is a matter of finding a proper sleep-
ing bag, and I have tried here to make the essentials
plain. Beyond this, one's personal taste must be the
decisive factor. Let us hear from another old-timer,
Emerson Hough:
" As to your bed,us have one more whack at the

let
sleeping bag — that
accursed invention of a misguided
soul. Leave your sleeping bag at home, in the Adiron-
dacks or in the Minnesota woods. Take a pair of good
wool blankets which will weigh not less than ten pounds
— more weight is better. Don't despise a good wool com-
forter or a Katy which will fold double and make a
'
'
nice mattress under you. And whatever you do, don't

fail to have for your own use a good, big bed tarp as it * '
is known in the West. On the stock ranches we always

used to have the tarpaulin of 20-oz. duck, about 7 x 14 ft.,
jand sometimes it had harness hooks on it, sometimes not.
It surely would turn rain. For the pack travel of today
you will not need canvas of quite so much weight. But
canvas and wool in abundance you surely should have
for your bed. No hunting trip is a success when you
don't sleep well and dry at night. Canvas and woo!
together are the correct dope for the mountains. Take an
air mattress if you insist, or if your dealer does: don't
blame me if you sleep cold."
When all is said, plain blankets are cheaper than

sleeping bags, and they can be used at home: that
settles the matter for most folks.
Mattresses and Pillows. —
It is folly to sleep
on bare ground if one can help it. A bed of balsam
browse is not excelled, if properly made and fre-
quently renewed but it takes fully an hour to make
;
one right, and on many a camp ground there is no

browse, not even spruce. As a substitute one may
use pine needles, grass, ferns, the moss off old fallen
trees, or even dead leaves. Such stuff, however,
packs hard and spreads from under one unless con-
fined in a bag. For years I carried a bag of common
bed ticking for this purpose, 2^^ feet wnde by 6^
feet long, and weighing only i pounds. Such a^
bag made of tanalite is more practical than any kind
of carryall or bed-sheet, for it serves just as well to
CAMP BEDDING 135
protect the bedding en routes and then is easy to

turn into a mattress when you make camp. A pil-
low bag, similarly with spare clothing atop,
stuffed,
was not the least important item in my very light
kit. When one has room, it pays to carry a small
feather pillow or a down cushion about 12x18
inches.
Air Mattresses. —
An air bed is luxurious in
moderate weather, but too cold to use late in the
reason unless well insulated with blankets or a felt
pad. The thinner the bed the less objectionable it
is in this respect, as it does not then steal so much
of one's animal heat.
There are sleeping bags combined with air mat-
**
tresses, full-length or only body size," that are
good for canoe cruising, horseback journeys, or other
trips when camp is changed every day or so and
good sites are not always to be found. They save

much work, and sometimes a good deal of anxiety.
There is then no night wood to cut, no browse to
gather, no tent to trench, and little bother about
smoothing the ground. Wherever one may be, in
damp forest or on sandy dune, on rocky ground or
mucky ground, down goes the bundle, it is unrolled,
and one inflates his " blow bed " with the bellows
that nature gave him. In ten minutes he is assured
of a dry, warm, elastic bed for the night, in spite of
Jupiter Pluvius, or Boreas, or both of them allied.
If water runs in on the floor, let it run. If the tent
blows down, let it alone until you feel like getting
up. Come morning there is no bed making to do, if
you are too hurried to air things, except to deflate
the mattress and roll the bag up. It straps into a
waterproof pack that stows conveniently anywhere.
But such a bed is quite expensive. For ordinary
and a bed tick will do just as well.
service, blankets
In any case, study your health and your ease at
night. There a veteran's wisdom in what Chaun-
is
cey Thomas says:" I go camping to have a good

time, and a third of that time is spent in bed,"
Bed Rolls. —
one carries loose blankets he will
If
need a waterproof canvas cover to protect them
€n route and to serve as a ground sheet between
them and the damp earth when he sleeps on the
ground. A
bed roll made with flaps at sides and
Fig. 82.— U. S. A. Regulation Bed Roll
end is It Is also a good thing

best for this purpose.
when you on a narrow cot, to keep cold air
sleep
from coming up under the overhang of your blan-
kets. The army regulation bed roll (Fig. 82) is
^ a
Fig. 83.— Shattuck Camp Roll
^ne type. There Is a pocket for spare clothing that

serves as pillow, and the blankets and a folding cot
are rolled up In the main part of the sheet, covered
by the flaps, and strapped up.
Another camp roll is shown In Fig. 83. It con-
CAMP BEDDING 13';
tains a detachable wall pocket for small articles,

which is to be hung up in the tent, and bellows
pockets at the end.
There is a combination carryall and bed (Fig,
84) that I think a good deal of. In principle it k
like the other bed rolls mentioned, but the bottom ia
double and open at both ends. A
pair of stiff poles
convert it into a stretcher bed (Fig. 86) cross polea ;
Fig. 84.— Fig. 85.—

Comfort Sleeping Pocket Combination Bed Roll,
Stretcher Bed and Bed
Tick
Fig. 86.— Fig. 87.—

Combination as Stretcher Bed Combination as Ham-
mock
Fig. 88. — Combination as Bed Roll
added and lashed at the ends make a hammock frame

(Fig. 87). The double bottom serves as a bed tick,
to be filled with browse, grass, or whatever soft
stuff the camp site affords. The ends can be closed
with horse-blanket pins, after stuffing the bag. The
roll is made of 12-oz. army duck, and weighs 7 or 8
pounds. It can be had with blanket lining, but this
I do not recommend. Use separate blankets; then
you can have as much thickness under as over you.
CHAPTER IX
CLOTHING
In a wild country one soon learns that the differ-
ence between comfort and misery, if not health and
illness, may depend upon whether he is properly
clad. Proper, in this case, does not mean modish,
but suitable, serviceable, proven by the touchstone
of experience to be best for the work or play that
is in hand. When you seek a guide in the moun-
tains he looks first in your eyes and then at your
shoes. If both are right, you are right.
The chief uses of clothing are to help the body
maintain its normal temperature, and to protect it
from sun, frost, wind, rain and injuries. To help,
mind you — the body must be allowed to do its
share.
Perspiration is the heat-regulating mechanism of
the body. Clothing should hinder its passage from
the skin as little as possible. For this reason one's
garments should be permeable to air. The body is
cooled by rapid evaporation, on the familiar princi-
ple of a tropicalwater-bag that is porous enough to
let some of the water exude. So the best summer
clothing is that which permits free evaporation —
and this means all over, from head to heel. In win-
ter, just the same, there should be free passage for
bodily moisture through the underclothes; but extra
layers or thicknesses of outer clothing are needed to
hold in the bodily heat and to protect one against
wind even so, all the garments should be permeable
;
to air. If a man would freeze most horribly, let

him, on a winter's night, crawl into a bag of India
rubber and tie the opening tight about his neck.
128
CLOTHING 139
Cloth can be processed in such a waj^ as to be
rainproof and still self-ventilating (this will be con-
sidered later), but rubber garments and oilskins can-
not safely be worn the day long, unless they are very
roomy, and the wearer exercises but little. Rubber
overshoes, boots, waders, are endurable only in cool
weather or cold water, and then only if very thick
oversocks are worn to hold air and absorb moisture.
All clothing worn by an outdoorman should be
of such texture and fit as will allow free play to his
muscles, so he may be active and agile, and should
bind as little as possible, especially over vital organs.
Garments that are too thick and stiff, or too loose at
points of friction, will chafe the wearer.
These are general principles now for particulars.
—
;
Underclothing. In discussing " togs " we

usually begin on the wrong side —
the outside.
Now the outer garments will vary a great deal, ac-
cording to climate, season, the terrain or waters,
and according to the sport or work that one is to
do; but the integument that comes next to one's
skin should vary little for an outdoorman except in
weight.
The material and quality of one's underwear are
of more consequence than the shell he puts over it,
ôr his comfort and health depend more on them.

Whenever a man exercises heartily he is sure to per-
spire freely, no matter how cold the air may be.
Arctic explorers all agree that their chief misery
was from confined moisture freezing on them. How
it is in the dog-days everybody knows —
a glowing
sun, humidity in the air, and sweat trickling from
every pore because the atmosphere is not dry enough
to take it up.
Permeability of cloth to air and moisture is
largely a matter of texture. Consider the starched
linen collar and the soft collar of an outing shirt;
consider a leather sweat-band in the hat and a flan-
nel one, or no sweat-band at all.
Underclothing, for any season, should be loosely
woven, so as to hold air and take up moisture from
the body. The air connned in the interspaces is a
non-conductor, and so helps to prevent sudden chill-
ing on the one hand and over-heating on the other.
A loose texture absorbs sweat but does not hold it—
the moisture is free to pass on to and through the
outer garments. In town we may endure close-
woven underwear in summer, if thin enough, be-
cause wê exercise little and can bathe and change
frequently. In the woods we would have to change
four times a day to keep near as dry.
—
Wool versus Cotton. Permeability also de-
pends upon material. Ordinary cotton and linen
goods do not permit rapid evaporation. They ab-
i>orb moisture from the skin, but hold it up to t'he
limit of saturation. Then, when they can hold nc
more, they are clammy, and the sweat can only
escape by running down one's skin.
After hard exertion in such garments, if you sit
down to rest, or meet a sudden keen wind, as in top-
ping a ridge, you are likely to get a chill— and the
next thing is a " bad cold," or lumbago, rheumatism,
or something worse.
Wool, on the contrary, is permeable. That is
why (if of suitable weight and loose weave) it is
both cooler in summer and warmer in winter than
cloth made from vegetable fibre. *'
One wraps him-
self in a woolen blanket to keep warm — to keep
the heat in. He wraps ice in a blanket to keep it
from melting — to keep the heat out." In other
words, wool is the best material to maintain an
equable, normal temperature.
However, the broad statement that one should
wear nothing but wool at all seasons requires modi-
fication. It depends upon quality and weave.
Some flannels are less absorptive and less permeable
(especially after a few washings by the scrub-and-
wring-out process) than open-texture cottons and
linens.
And, speaking of washing, here comes another
CLOTHING 141
practical consideration. If woolen garments are

washed like cotton ones — soap rubbed scrubbed
in,
on a washboard or the like, and wrung out —
they
will invariably shrink. The only way to prevent
shrinkage is to soak them in lukewarm suds (prefer-
ably of f els-naphtha or a similar soap), then merely
squeeze out the water by pulling through the hand,
rinse, squeeze out again, stretch, and hang up to dry.
This is easy, but it requires a large vessel, and such
a vessel few campers have. The alternative is to
buy your undershirts and overshirts a size too large,
allowing for shrinkage. Drawers must not be over-
size, or they will chafe. But one's legs perspire
much less than his body, and need less protection so, ;
up to the time of frost, let the drawers be of ribbed

cotton, which is permeable and dries out quickly.
Cotton drawers have the further advantage that
they do not shrink from the frequent wettings and
constant rubbings that one's legs get in wîlderness
travel. Wool, however, is best for wading trout
streams. For riding, the best drawers are of silk.
I conclude that for cold weather, for work In
high altitudes where changes of temperature are
sudden and severe, and for deep forests w^here the
night air is chilly, woolen underclothes should be
worn. In hot climates, and for summer wear in
open country, a mixture of silk and wool is best,
but open-texture linen or cotton does very well. Pa-
jamas should be of flannel, at all seasons, if one
sleeps in a tent or out-of-doors.
Union" Suits are not practical in the wilds. If
you wade a stream, or get your legs soaked from
wet brush or snow, you can easily take off a pair of
drawers to dry them, but if wearing a union suit you
must strip from head to foot. Moreover, a union
suit is hard to wash, and it Is a perfect haven for
fleas and ticks — you can't get rid of the brutes
without stripping to the buff.
Drawers must fit snugly In the crotch, and be
not too thick, or they will chafe the wearer. Thef
142 CAMPING AND WOODCR"AFT
should be loose in the leg, to permit free knee action.
Full-length drawers are best because they protect
the knees against dirt and bruises, and safety-pins
can be used to hold up the socks (garters impede
circulation).
Socks. — If trousers of full length are worn, then
socks are preferable
stockings; they bulk less,
to
weigh less, cost less, and are easier to wash. For
forest travel, regardless of season, socks should be
of soft wool, thick enough to cushion the feet and
absorb moisture, and not closely knit but of rather
open texture. But for open country, in hot sunny
weather, cotton is better, because wool " draws " the
feet at such times. On an all-day hike it pays to
change to a fresh pair at noon.
The fit of socks is very important. If too loose,
they wrinkle and chafe the feet; if too small, they
are unendurable. To prevent woolen ones from
shrinking is not difficult. Every night, or every time
you come in with wet feet, remove your socks, put
on fresh ones (having bathed the feet, of course),
and put those you have worn to soak in a running
stream then draw them through the hand to squeeze
;
out water, do not wring, but pull them gently into

shape, and hang up to dry. On a long trip you
will find means, now and then, to soak them in tepid
suds, as they do not require a large vessel.
Take along enough socks so that when a pair
gets " more holey than righteous " you can throw
them away. Darned socks cause blisters, especially
when a man does the darning.
OvERSHiRTS. —
For Summer wear the U. S. A.
chambray shirt is as good as any. It is durable,
does not fade, and shows dirt and perspiration stains
less than khaki or common outing shirts. Army
shirts have two roomy Stanley pockets with buttoned
flaps. These are just right for pipe and tobacco,
note-book and pencil, or whatever you want handy
at all times without crowding the trousers pockets.
Later in the season, or for a cool climate, the
CLOTHING 143
standard infantry or officer's service shirt of olive-
tan wool is excellent. always natty, and wears
It is
better than common The cloth is shrunk

flannel.
before making up, but will do some more shrinking
from repeated wettings and washings, so get a size
larger than what is worn at home. Gray is also a
good color for overshirts.
Neckerchiefs. —
A neckerchief worn with the
peak in front is convenient to wipe perspiration from
the face. Slewed around the other way, it shields
the neck from sunburn. In a high wind, or in
dense thickets, k can be used to hold the hat on by
tying over the head and it will protect one's ears
;
when frost nips. It serves as a nightcap, or as a

shield against insects, when folded and worn as
shown in Figs. 89, 90.
Fig. 89 — Fig. 90.—

Neckerchief Neckerchief
Folded for Hood Hood Adjusted
Lay the kerchief out flat, fold over the upper

corners a and b till they meet, roll the square lower
edge toward the triangle thus formed, place kerchief
over head with the slit ac in front, tie extremities of
the roll under chin, and over ab, with a reef knot.
The neckerchief should be large (the army size,
27x27 in., or navy, 36x36 in.) and of silk. Silk
neckerchiefs in any desired color can be bought of
military outfitters. The army or navy size can be
used as a doubled triangular bandage (or cut into
two of them) in emergency. Tied around the ab-
domen it helps to keep a man warm when he is
caught out at night, and it is a good thing in ?:a5C
of cramps.
Trousers. — Khaki, of standard army grade, is
good for summer wear, as it is cool and can be

washed. Duxbak," or other closely woven crava-
'*
netted cotton, is better late in the season, since it

sheds a good deal of wet and keeps out wind. Both
of these materials dry readily. They are too noisy
for still-hunting.
For cold weather the army trousers of olive-tan
wool are good, unless one goes out for very rough
travel. The woolen cloth called kersey is first
choice in a cool, rainy climate, or wherever much
wading is to be done. It is the favorite among
those most practical of men. the log-drivers and lum-
berjacks generally.
Woolen trousers do not wear so well as firmly
woven cotton ones. They " pick out " in brush,
*'
snag," and collect burs. What has been said of
cotton drawers applies also to trousers. Best of all
trouser material, for rough service, is genuine Eng-
lish moleskin, which is a very strong, tough, twilled
cotton cloth, with a fine pile or nap, the surface of
Ivhich is *' shaved " before dyeing. wears like
It
iron, is wind-proof, dries out quickly, and is com-
fortable in either warm or cold weather. Cheap
moleskin is worthless.
Corduroy is easily torn, heavy, likely to chafe one,
and it is notoriously hard to dry after a wetting.
When wearing corduroy trousers there is a swish-
swash at every stride that game can hear at a great
distance.
Trousers should not be lined it makes them stiff
;
and hard to dry.

To wear with leggings the " foot breeches " of our
infantry, which lace or button in front below the
kne€, fit better than trousers that must be lapped
over; but for wilderness wear I prefer common
trousers cut off about six inches below the knee:
they are easier to put on and they dry out quicker.
Riding breeches are best for the saddle. They
are cut too tight at the knee for foot travel, espe-
CLOTHING 145
ciall}^ for climbing. Knickerbockers are too baggy
for the woods: they catch on snags and tear, or
throw a man.
Belts. A — belt drawn tight enough to hold up
much weight is not only uncomfortable but danger-
ous. checks circulation, interferes with diges-
It
tion, and may cause rupture if one gets a fall. If
common suspenders are objectionable, then wear the
" invisible " kind that go under the overshirt. They
prevent chafing, by holding the trousers snug up in
the crotch. For ordinary service there is no need
of a belt more than an inch wide. cartridge A
belt should be worn sagging wÛ down on the hips;
or, if a heavy weight is to be carried on the belt
(bad practice, anyway), by all means have shoulder-
straps for it.
Leggings. — Never buy leggings that strap under

the instep. The strap collects mud, and it is soon
cut to pieces on the rocks. Any legging that laces
over hooks will catch in brush or high grass and
soon the hooks bend outward or flatten. The pres-
ent U. S. A. canvas legging (Fig. 91) has only one
Fig. 91.— Fig. 92.— Fig- 93 —

U. S. Army Canvas Strap Woolen Spiral
Canvas Leg- Puttee Puttee
ging
hook, in front; it is quickly adjusted. The strap

puttee (Fig. 92) is better for a woodsman or moun-
taineer. Leather puttees are suitable only for horse-
men ; in walking and climbing they cut one in front
and rear of the ankle joint. Genuine pigskin is the
only leather that will stand hard service and fre-
quent wettings.
For still-hunting I like spiral puttees (Fig. 93),
not spat but plain, as here illustrated. They are
strips of woolen cloth with selvage edges, specially
woven and *' formed," which wind round the leg
like a surgeon's bandage and tie at the top. Do not
wind too tightly. They are pliable, noiseless against
brush, help to keep ticks and rhiggers from crawling
up one's legs, and, with the clothing underneath, are
a sufficient defense against any snakes except the
'*
great diamond-back rattlers. In experiments,
only in rare instances has snake virus stained blot-
ting-paper placed behind two thicknesses of heavy
flannel."
German socks, instead of leggings, are good for
still-hunting in severe cold weather.
Many dispense with leggings by wearing their
trousers tucked inside boots or high-topped shoes.
This will do when the woods are dry, but when all
the bushes are wet from rain, or from heavy dew,
the water runs down inside your shoes until they
slush-slush as if you had been wading a creek.
Coats. —The conventional American hunting
coat of tan-colored cotton is designed primarily for
fishermen, bird-hunters, and others who can reach
home or permanent camp every night. Being nearly
" all pockets but the button-holes," its wearer needs
no pouch or game-bag. A
man can stuff all the
pockets full (he generally does) and still cross fences
and slip through thickets without anything catching
or dangling in the way. A cravenetted coat of this
sort turns rain and keeps out the wind. It is an
excellent defence against burrs and briers. It is no
heavier than a poncho, and more serviceable for
everything but as a ground-sheet or shelter-cloth.
These are good points.
On the other hand, the coat is too hot for sum-
mer (barring trout fishing), it impedes athletic
movements, and, unless sleeveless, it is a poor thing
to shoot in, as a gun butt is from the
likely to slip
shoulder. For summer hikes, canoeing, and big-
CLOTHING 147
game hunting (except when it is cc.M enough for
Mackinaw's) any coat is a downright nuisance.
Have the coat roomy enough to wear a sweater
or thick vest under it. Never mind " fit " —
the
thing is hideous anyway. Of course, one can wear
a modish and well-fitting shooting suit, or the like,
''
in the fields near civilization," but for wilderness
travel it is as outre as a stag shirt and caulked boots
would be on Fifth Avenue.
The coat should not be lined. Most linings are
so tightly woven that they check ventilation of the
skin, and they make a garment hard to dry out.
Sweaters. —A sweater, or sweater jacket, is
comfortable to wear around camp in the chill of the
evening and early morning, and its elasticity makes
it a good bed garment when there are not enough
blankets. With nothing over it, a sweater is not

serviceable in the woods, as it
*'
picks out," " snags,"
and catches up burrs as a magnet does iron fil-
ings.
When you want such a garment you need
at all,
warmth a-plenty : good quality,
so get a thick one of
and don't kick at the price. It should have cuffs to
draw down over the knuckles, and a wide collar to
protect the neck and base of the head. The best
colors are neutral gray and brown or tan. A
sweater jacket that buttons up in front is more con-
venient than the kind that is drawn over one's head,
but it is not so warm as the latter.
Personally, I usually discard the sweater in favor

of a Mackinaw shirt, worn hunting fashion with tail
outside. It has all the good points of a sweater,
except great elasticity, and has the advantages of
shedding rain and snow, keeping out wind, wearing
well under hard service, and not picking up so much
trash.
Leather Jackets. —
In the cold dry air of the
Far West a buckskin jacket or hunting shirt is often
the best outer garment. It keeps out the keenest
wind, is pliable as kid, noiseless, less bulky than a
sweater or Mackinaw, wears forever, and Is proof
against thorns and burrs. But when wet It Is as
cold and clammy as tripe.
Genuine buckskin shirts are still listed In the
catalogues of certain dealers in the Northwest. Be
sure the skins are " smoke-tanned," so that they will
dry soft and not shrink so badly as those dressed by
a commercial tanner. A
fringed shirt dries better
than a plain one, as the water tends to drip off the
fringes.
Swedish dogskin jackets are rain-proof, but not
so pliable as buckskin.
If one can get them (Hudson Bay posts) light
caribou skins are better than buckskin. Caribou or
reindeer hide has the singular property of not stretch-
ing when wet. When tanned with the hair on It
is the warmest of all coverings.
Vests. — A vest without coat may not be sightly,

but It is mighty workmanlike. Suspenders can be
worn under it without desecrating the landscape —
and stout suspenders, say what you please, are a
badge of good common sense on a woodsman.
But the vest worn in town is not fit for the wilder-
ness. One's back Is more vulnerable to cold than
his chest hence the thick cloth of a waistcoat should
;
go all the way round. There should be four roomy

pockets, the lower ones with buttoned flaps. Tabs
fitted at the bottom will keep the vest from flapping
when worn open.
Waterproofing Woolens. — Wet clothing Is
heavy and uncomfortable. It Is much less perme-

able to air than dry clothing; consequently It Inter-
feres with evaporation of sweat and it is chilly, be-
;
cause water, which Is a good conductor of heat, has

replaced the air, which Is a non-conductor. Air
passes through dry cloth more than twice as freely
as through wet material.
The problem Is to waterproof the outer garments
and still leave them permeable to air. This Is done
with cotton goods by cravenettlng the material, or,
CLOTHING 149
less effectively, by the alum and sugar-of-lead proc-
ess which alumina in the fibers.
fixes acetate of
It is waterproof woolens than cotton
easier to
clothing. Simply make a solution of anhydrous
lanolin in benzine or gasoline, soak the garment in
it about three minutes, wring out gently, stretch to
shape, and hang up to drj^ shifting position of gar-

ment frequently, until nearly dry, so that the lanolin
will be evenly distributed. This process is very
cheap, and old clothing can be treated by it as well
as new, wîthout injuring the buttons or anything
else.
Cloth so treated permits the ready evaporation of
sweat, and so may be worn without ill effects, no
matter what the weather may be. In fact the p<^.r-
spiration escapes more freely than from plain woolen
cloth, because moisture cannot penetrate the fibers
and swell them —
the interstices are left open for
air to pass through. And yet woolens impregnated
with lanolin shed rain better than cloth treated by
any of the chemical processes. The goods are not
changed in weight, color, or odor. Instead of being
weakened, they are made stronger. The wâter-
proofing is permanent.
Lanolin can be bought at any drug-store. It is
simply purified wool fat. Wool, in its natural state,
contains a grease known as suint. This suint is re-
moved by alkalis before spinning the fiber into cloth.
If it let alone, as in a Navajo blanket of
had been
the old type, the cloth would have shed water. But
suint has an unpleasant odor, which is got rid of
by purifying the fat into lanolin.
This lanolin, although it is a fat, has the singular
property of taking up a great deal of water, and
water is purposely added to it in preparing the com-
mon (hydrous) lanolin that is used as an ointment
base and in cosmetics. In buying, specify that it be
anhydrous (water-free). Cloth treated with lanolin
absorbs little moisture because water cannot pene-
trate the fiber and is repelled from the interspaces
i5o CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
The strength of solution to be used depends upon
climate. For a hot, rainy climate, use four ounces
of lanolin to a gallon of benzine for average condi-
;
tions in the temperate zone, three ounces to the gal-

lon for cold climate, or winter use exclusively, two
;
ounces to the gallon, as cold has a tendency to stiffen

cloth that has been steeped in a strong solution.
The three-ounce formula is right for blankets.
If trouble is experienced in making a solution of
lanolin, dissolve it first in a little chloroform, then
pour into the benzine.
Footwear. —truism that " a soldier is no
It is a
better than his feet." Neither is anybody else who
has much walking to do. Such shoes as we wear in
town are wholly unfit for the field. They are too
light, too short,and too narrow. We
do little walk-
ing in town, and none that we do is over rough
ground. We
carry no burdens on our backs. So
the " snug fit " is tolerated, and the thin socks.
On the trail it is different. One must have free
play for his toes, or his feet will be cramped and
blistered within a few hours —
then misery! In
marching with a pack, one's foot lengthens about
half an inch every time his weight is thrown on it,
and broadens nearly as much. And after hiking
some distance the feet begin to swell.
The only way to insure a good fit is to put on
thick socks, pick up a weight equal to the load you
are to carry, slip a tape-measure under the sole, then
throw your whole weight on that foot, and have
someone do the measuring. Then the other foot
similarly ; for in many cases the two differ. Have
the shoe made a half inch longer than the foot meas-
urement, and wide enough to give a snug but easy
fit over the ball when poised as above. Around the
heel it should be snug enough to prevent slipping and
chafing. These are the army rules, and they are
right for anyone who marches and has equipment to
carry.
When starting afield, lace the shoes rather tightly
CLOTHING 151
across the instep ; then ease the lacing when your
feet begin to s\\ ell. By the way, some people are
always having their shoe laces come undone, because
tied with a granny bow. A
true bow knot (Fig.
94) is made like a reef knot (Figs. 95, 96) except
that the ends are doubled back before tying.
Carry spare laces. They come handy for many
purposes. Rawhide laces may be hardened at the
ends by slightly roasting them.
Shoes. —It is not enough that the shoes be roomy.
The lasts over which they are made should be ana-
tomically correct. In 191 1 a board of officers of our
army was appointed to select a soldier's shoe. They
tried many models, instituted thorough marching
tests by thousands of men, and finally adopted a
Fig. 94.— Fig. 95.— Fig.96.—

True Bow Reef Knot Formed Reef Knot Drawn
Knot. Don- Tight
ble the Ends
Back and
Tie as in a
Reef Knot
shoe made over lasts designed by Surgeon-Major

Munson, the well-known expert on military hygiene
(Fig. 97). These lasts are straight on the inside,
so that the big toe can point straight ahead, as Na-
ture intended. The front is broad enough to give
all the toes free play. There is no compression over
the ball or arch of the foot. This is the perfect
model, easy on one's feet from the word " go."
The army now been in use, by all arms
shoe has
of the service, long enough to have proved beyond
question its merits. Lieutenant Whelan, so well
known to us as a sportsman and military authority,
says of it: " In the light of what the army now
knows, sore feet are absolutely inexcusable. The
presence of sore feet in an officer's command is a
cause for Investigation as to the efficiency of that
officer."
To break In a new pair of shoes the soldier stands
in about three Inches of water for five minutes, then
goes for a walk on level ground. When the shoes
are not in use, care Is taken that they shall not be
packed away tightly or otherwise compressed out of
the true shape that the breaking In gave them.
At night the shoes are dried by hanging them up-
side down on stakes before the fire —
not too close,
for wet leather " burns " easily. Or, fill a frjang
pan with clean pebbles, heat them (not too hot) over
the fire, put them in the shoes, and shake them
Fig. 97-— Fig. 98.—

U. S. Army Shoe Sole of Army
Shoe, Showing
Proper Meth-
od of Placing
Hobnails
around after a while. Before the shoes are quite

dry, rub just a little ncatsfoot oil into them. The
remaining dampness prevents the oil from striking
clear through, but helps it to penetrate on the out-
follows the retreating water.
side, as the oil
The army shoe has a single sole so it is flexible
;
—
a prime desideratum for good walking. The heel is
low, broad, and longer than usual, giving firm foot-
ing and having less tendency to ** run down " than
the common pattern of heel. The tongue is loose,
CLOTHIiNG 153
making: the shoe cool and easy to dry out. There

are no hooks to catch in grass and bend out of shape.
A pair of these shoes weighs only 2 to 2_^ pounds,
according to size. This is a proper weight for
marching on ordinary roads, but is too light, of
course, for rough service, such as a sportsman's
shoes often are put to. For the hardscrabble of
mountaineering, or going anywhere over sharp rocks
or among thorns and saw-briers, the leather is too
thin when it gets wet it goes to pieces.
;
When buying shoes go to a maker who has made,

and kept, a reputation for using none but good
leather. There is no severer test of leather than
hard usage during frequent wettings and dryings;
so, when you find a firm of shoemakers that lumber-
jacks swear by, trust it to turn you out a good
article.
Waterproofed Shoes. — The army board de'
îded positively against using any waterproofing com-
pound on shoe leather, because waterproofed shoes
steam the feet in perspiration, congest them, and
make them worn for any considerable time,
tender, if
especially in warm
weather.
However, it is one thing to march on ordinary
roads and another thing to follow wilderness trails
or go where there are none at all. And sportsmen
often are out in cold slush or wet snow. It is true
that no harm comes from wet feet so long as one
keeps moving; but if a man has much standing
around to do with his feet cold and wet he will
suffer discomfort and quite likely catch a cold. Be-
sides, no matter how good the quality of leather may
be, when it gets soggy it wears badly. Conse-
quently, although the army shoe is just right for
warm weather and marching on roads, it is neither
strong enough nor dry enough for continuous wilder-
ness use.
My advice is to get shoes made over the Munson
last, of weight suitable for the service in view, and
have them viscolized or otherwise waterproofed if
you are to be out a good deal in the wet. Have »
pair of the regulation army shoes for hot weather
and easy going.
No leather is absolutely waterproof. The skin
from which it tanned is porous, and a water-
is
proofing preparation only partially fills those pores,

making the leather shed water so long as the filling
remains intact, but not preventing air and moisture
from gradually seeping through. This is as it
should be. If the pores were completely and perma-
nently stopped up, the shoe would be as uncomfort-
able and unhealthful to wear as if made of rubber.
All we can reasonably ask is that the shoe shall shed
water under marching conditions; not that we may
wade or stand in water indefinitely and still keep
dry feet.
There are several good waterproofing preparations
on the market, to be bought of almost any dealer
in sporting goods. If you prefer to make your own,
either of the following recipes will do very well.
Do not use a mineral oil on shoes: it "burns"
leather but vaseline and paraffine are harmless.
;
To Waterproof Leather. —A rather thick

dubbing melted and rubbed into warmed leather
is better than an oil, as it " stays put " and does not
mix so much with water. Have the leather per-

fectly dry and apply the compound with a small
brush, blowing it into the crack between the sole and
upper, then rub well with the hand. Usually two
coats, sometimes three, should be applied.
(i) Melt together one part paraffine and two parts yel-
low vaseline. Apply as above.
(2) Melt together equal parts paraffine or beeswaXj
tallow, and harness oil or neatsfoot oil.
(3) Boil together two parts pine tar and three parts
cod-liver oil. Soak the leather in the hot mixture, rub-
bing in while hot. It will make boots waterproof, and
will keep them soft for months, in spite of repeated wet-
tings. This is a famous Norwegian recipe.
(4) Get a cake of cocoanut butter from a drug store
and a small quantity of beeswax. Melt the cocoanut but-
ter and add the beeswax in the proportion of about one
CLOTHING 155
part of beeswax to six of the cocoanut butter. Warm
the shoe as thoroughly as possible to open the pores of
the leather, and rub your melted waterproofing on while
hot. Repeated warming of the shoe and application of
the preparation will thoroughly fill the pores of the
leather and also the stitching. The cocoanut butter
when cold hardens somewhat like paraffine but not suf-
ficiently to seal the stitching. The beeswax gets in its
work there. A
mixture of tallow or neatsfoot oil applied
hot and with melted rubber mixed in, is also good. To
melt the rubber, first chip it as small as possible. Rubber
cuts easiest when wet. Apply to stitching with a stifi
brush. — Recreation, April, 191 1.
Hobnails. —
If one is not traveling bv canoe ot
on horseback, a few cone-headed Hungarian naik
should be driven into the shoe soles in the pattern
here shown (Fig. 98). The ''natives" may stud
their soles thickly, but that is only to save shoe
leather. Too many nails hurt the feet, make the
shoe stiff (whereas it can scarcely be too springy),
cause the shoe to ball up in snow, and do not grip
so well as a few nails well placed. I am not speak-
ing here of mountaineering above snow-line, but of
ordinary climbing, especially where leaves or pine
needles may be thick, and of following the beds of
trout streams. The
under the instep are in-
nails
valuable for crossing streams on fallen trees or poles.
The sharp points of cone-headed nails soon wear
off, but edges are left that " bite " well. Broad
hobnails with corrugated faces are good at first, but
they quickly wear smooth, and then slip worse on
the rocks than small ones. They also pull out
sooner.
Many recommend short screw caulks. These, if
sharp pointed, pick up trash at every step when jôu
are in the woods; if blunt, they are treacherous on
the " slick rocks," as they are m.ade of hard steel.
Some prefer ^-inch round head blued screws in-
stead of hobnails or caulks. They claim that these
" bite " better, and that they are easy to insert or
remove.
Rubber heels save much jarring on a long hike,
but they do not grip on slippery roots, on footlogs,
or on leaf-strewn mountain sides.
Boots. —By boots I mean any soled footgear with
tops more than eight inches high. Engineers who
do more standing around than walking m.ay be all
right in high-topped boots that lace up the legs, and
have buckles besides, but there are mighty few places
where a sportsman should be seen in such rig. The
importance of going lightly shod when one has to do
much tramping is not appreciated by a novice.
Let me show what it means. Suppose that a man
in fair training can carry on his back a weight of
forty pounds, on good roads, w-ithout excessive fa-
tigue. Now shift that load from his back and
fasten half of it on each foot — how far will he go?
You see the difference between carrying on your
back and lifting with your feet. Very well a pair
;
uf single-soled low shoes weighs about two and a

half pounds. A pair of boots with double soles and
sixteen or seventeen-inch tops weighs about four and
SI half pounds. In ten miles there are 21,120 aver-
age paces. At one extra pound to the pace the
boots make you lift, in a ten-mile tramp, over ten
tons more footgear than if you wore the shoes.
Nor is that all. The boots afford no outlet foi
hot air and perspiration. They are stiff, clumsy,
and very likely to blister your feet and ankles.
When they are brand new, you can wade shallows
in them and keep your feet dry; but soon the seams
are bouna to open and no dubbing will ever close
them again. Anyhow, if you fall in fording, or step
half an inch too deep, it will take five minutes to
remove those boots, pour out the wâter, and put.
them on again. Then if they dry out overnight
you are uncommonly lucky.
And how are the boots in warm, dry weather?
They keep the feet and legs wet all the time with
stagnant perspiration. No — take six-inch shoes
and light leggings, with a pair of waterproofed
" pacs " in reserve for wet going. If you hunt in a
CLOTHING 157
marsh, wear rubber boots, which are waterproof in
something more than name.
There are times and places where an eight or ten-
inch hunting shoe that started out to be waterproof
is all right.
High-topped " cruisers " have all the faults of the
boots except that they are lighter. They scald the
feet on a warm day, and chill or freeze them on a
cold one; from lack of ventilation and confinement of
moisture.
Pacs. —A " shoe-pac " or " larrigan " is a beef-
hide moccasin wîth eight to ten-inch top, and with or
without a light, flexible sole. It is practically water-
proof so long as the seams (which are on top where
they get less strain than those of a shoe) remain
sound, and they are kept well greased. They are
lighter and more pliable than shoes, and are first-
rate *' extras " to take along for wet days, dewy
mornings, and swampy ground, or as the regular
footwear for still-hunting. Get them big enough
to accommodate heavy lumbermen's socks over your
•3oft thinner ones. Otherwise your feet will gen-
erally be either too hot or too cold.
Pacs without soles are fine in a canoe. In trout
fishing they can be worn with a pair of hemp sandals
to prevent slipping. In extremely cold weather the
oil-tanned leather freezes as stiff as horn, and gets
dangerously " slick."
Moccasins. — In dry weather, on ground that is
not too steep or stony, give me the velvety and pliant,
pussy-footed moccasin, of real moose-hide, " smoke-
tanned " So it will dry soft if I do get wet. I will
see more that is worth seeing in the woods than
anybody w^ho wears shoes.
If your feet are too tender, at first, for moccasins,
add insoles of good thick felt, or birch bark or the
dried inner bark of red cedar. After a few days the
feet will toughen, the tendons will learn to do their
proper work without crutches, and you will be able
to travel farther, faster, more noiselessly, and with
less exertion, than in any kind of boots or shoes.
This, too, in rough country. I have often gone
tenderfooted from a year's office work and have
traveled in moccasins for wêeks, over flinty Ozark
hills, through canebrakes, through cypress swamps
where the sharp little immature " knees " are hidden
under the needles, over unballasted railroad tracks at
night, and in other rough places, and enjoyed noth-
ing more than the lightness and ease of my footv/ear.
After one's feet have become accustomed to this
most rational of all covering they become almost like
hands, feeling their way, and avoiding obstacles as
though gifted with a special sense. They can bend
freely. One can climb in moccasins as in nothing
else. So long as they are dry, he can cross narrow
logs like a cat, and pass in safety along treacherous
slopes where thick-soled shoes might bring him
swiftly to grief. Moccasined feet feel the dry sticks
underneath, and glide softly over the telltales with-
out cracking them. They do not stick fast in \nud.
One can swim with them as if he were barefoot. It
is rarely indeed that one hears of a man spraining;
his ankle when wearing the Indian footgear.

Moccasins should be of moose-hide, or, better
still, of caribou. Elk-hide is the next choice. Deer-
skin is too thin, hard on the feet for that reason, and
soon wears out. The hide should be Indian-tanned,
and ' honest Injun '* at that — that is to say, not
tanned with bark or chemicals, in which case (unless
of caribou-hide) they would shrink and dry hard
after a wetting, but made of the raw hide, its fibers
thoroughly broken up by a plentiful expenditure of
elbow-grease, the skin softened by rubbing into it the
brains of the animal, and then smoked, so that it
will dry without shrinking and can be made as
pliable as before by a little rubbing in the hands.
Moccasins to be used in a prickly-pear or cactiA
country must be soled with rawhide.
Ordinary moccasins, tanned by the above process
(which properly is not tanning at all), are oniv
CLOTHING 159
pleasant to wear in dry weather. But they are al-
ways a great comfort in a canoe or around camp, and
are almost indispensable for still-hunting or snow-
shoeing. They weigh so little, take up so little room
in the pack, and are so delightfully easy on the feetj
that a pair should be in every camper's outfit. At
night they are the best foot-warmers that one could
jWish, and they will be appreciated when one must get
up and move about outside the tent.
In a mountainous region that is heavily timbered,
moccasins are too slippery for use after the leaves
fall.
Moccasins should be made over a regular shoe
last (Fig. 99). Those commonly sold are too nar-
row at the toe. Remember
that they will shrink some
after getting wet, and that
you must wear thick socks in
them, or perhaps two pairs,
so get them big enough.
Heavy men, tender-
footed from town, enjoy pjg^ ^^_ Soled Moccaslr,
moccasins best in a ham- (Made Over Last)
mock. In fact, most city
men will get on better in soled moccasins, but these
should be pliable and of not over i}4 pounds to the
pair. Or canvas " sneakers " may be used. But
beware the rubber soled variety. They are very hot,
and will make your feet more tender than ever.
Canvas with leather sole is cool and dries out quickly.
Either moccasins or sneakers are needed in camp
to rest the feet, and to slip on at night if you stir out.
Headwear. — For general use a soft felt hat, of
good quality that will stand rain, is the best head
covering. The rim should be just wide enough to
shield the eyes from glare and the back of the neck
from rain. I like a creased top, wearing it so until
a hot sun beats dow^n, then I push up the crown and
have a good air space over my pate. The hat should
have ej^'elets for ventilation. A strap or cord under
i6o CAVfplNG AND WOODrRAFT
one's " back hair," or chin if need be, holds the hat
on in a wind.
A stiffrim is suitable only for mounted men ; in
the woods it is a plaything for brush and low
branches.
A flannel sweat-band absorbs perspiration instead
of holding it back like a leather one. (The Jaeger
stores have them in stock.) It also helps to hold the
hat on. In attaching, do not sew through the hat
but through the narrow band under original sweat-
band, otherwise the hat will leak.
Acap is of no account in the rain, and its crown
is too low to protect one's head from the sun rays.
Head Nets. —A
head net and gauntlets are the
only adequate protection against insects when these
are at their worst. The best net is of Brussels silk
veiling of fine mesh, black, because that is the easiest
color to see through. A
net that tears easily is
izseless.
Gloves. — Buckskin
gloves are needed in moun-
tain climbing and in a region where thorns and
briers are common. Buy the regular army ones:
they are real buck, and dry out soft. Cavalry gaunt-
lets are better for horseback trips. By folding the
hand of a gauntlet back against its cuff the latter
serves as a drinking cup.
For " fly time " Dillon Wallace recommends
" old loose kid gloves with the fingers cut off and
farmer's satin elbow sleeves to fit under the wrist-
bands of the outer shirt."
Waterproofs. —
Rubber tears easily. Oilskins
are superior, regular weight for the saddle and the
duck blind, " feather-weight " for fishing and the
like. A slicker should be quite roomy, to admit a?
much air as possible. Oilskin overalls are gooc?
things, at a fixedcamp, to wear of a morning when
dews are heavy and where the brush is thick.
On a hike there is no need of rubber or oilskins
If you wear cravenetted or lanolined clothing; but
one usually carries a light poncho as a ground-sheet

CLOTHING i6i
at night, and on the march It will protect gun and

pack, as well as the bearer, and let plenty of air circu-
late underneath it. A poncho makes a fair tem-
porary shelter, a good wind-break, and is nice to sil
on when the woods are damp. In a canoe it forms
a waterproof cover for the pack. There are ponchos
of " impervo " and similar oiled fabrics that outwear
rubber ones two to one. A poncho is a nuisance on
horseback; wear a pommel slicker.
Go over your oilskins each winter with an oil
that the dealers sell for the purpose then they will
;
last for a long time.

—
Rubber Footwear. I never wear waders for
summer trout fishing, but early spring fishing is a
different matter. Wading stockings require special
hobnailed shoes to go over them. I prefer a pair ot
light hip boots and separate wâding sandals studded
with nails. This combination costs less than the
other, is more durable, and the boots by themselves
are serviceable for general wet weather wear, marsb
shooting, and the like. Light rubber boots of first-
class quality will last as long as the common heavj^
ones, ana nave the advantage that the legs can be
turned inside out clear to the ankle for drying.
They need not weigh over 3 or 3^ pounds to the
pair, and the sandals a pound more —
together no
more than the high-topped leather boots that I have
been objurgating. Have them large enough for
both socks and oversocks, then your feet are not
likely to get " scalded." Carry a couple of " eezy-
quick " menders, and have a rubber repair kit among
your possibles in camp.
For hunting big game In wêt snow and slush the
best footwear is a pair of rubber shoes with ten-inch
leather uppers, weighing a bit over two pounds.
They should have heels, if you go into a hilly coun-
try, and rough corrugated soles. Dress the feet with
soft woolen socks, and over these draw a pair of long,
thick " German socks " that strap at the top. The
latter are warmer than the loose felt boots worn by
lumbermen, lighter, more flexible, fit better, and are
easier to dry out. The
rubbers should fit proper!-;
over the heavy socks, neither too tight nor too loose,
but especially not too tight or you risk frostbite!
Thus equipped, a still-hunter is " shod with silence."
For cold weather the vital necessity is suppleness of
the foot, and here you have it.
Cold Weather Clothing.— The main fault of
most cold weather rigs is that, paradoxically, they
-re too hot. You go out into '' twenty-some-odd "
below zero, all muffled up in thick underwear, over-
shirt, heavy trousers, and a 32-ounce
(to the yard)
Mackinaw coat. Very nice, until you get your
stride. In half an hour the sweat w'll be streaming
from you enough to turn a mill. By and by you
may have to stand still for quite a while. Then
the moisture begins to freeze, and a buffalo
robe
wouldn't keep you warm.
Conditions vary but for average winter work put
;
on two suits of medium weight all-wool underwear,

instead of one heavy one, moleskin trousers (heavy
Mackinaws chafe), wool overshirt, Mackinaw shirt
worn with tail outside, so it can easily be removed
and worn behind you when not needed, the rubber
" overs " and socks mentioned
above, a Mackinaw
cap with visor and ear laps, large, old kid gloves,
and thick, woolen mittens held by a cord around the
neck.
In buying Mackinaws get none but the best qual-^
ity. Cheap Mackinaw is shoddy, or part cotton,
and soaks up moisture like a sponge. good grade A
sheds rain so long as the nap is not worn off; then
it
can be waterproofed by the lanolin process. It is
noiseless, and stands rough usage. The natural gray
coloris best, except where the
law requires you to
wear red for protection against gun-bearing fools.
(About this, saith our friend Crossman: "Yes,
some fellow might take you for a deer if you wore
-m inconspicuous color the woods,
in but what
would you ? He'd take you for a zebra if you wore
!
CLOTHING 163
green and yellow, or shoot you for a forest fire it
you wore flaming crimson.")
—
Clothing for Women. So far as materials go,
the same rules hold good for women in field and
<:amp as for men.
The skirt, of course, should be short. For ca-
noeing or forest travel it should come just below the
knee. A Norfolk jacket, flannel waist or shirt,
bloomers, cloth leggings, strong but light-weight and
flexible shoes with broad, low heels, a soft felt hat,
sweater jacket, and waterproofs — these suggest
themselves. Ribbed cotton underwear may be worn
on hot days, but fine woolen garments should be in
reserve for the inevitable wet and chilly times.
Properly dressed for the woods, and not overbur-
dened, the average woman can keep up anywhere
with the average office man but in a tight or draggy
;
skirt she is simply hopeless. For real wilderness

travel riding breeches, cut full at the knee, are far
better than a skirt. A
buttoned skirt that can be
slipped on readily may worn over them on occa-
be
sion, as when approaching some village or camp
where people are not yet civilized enough to approve
common sense in a woman's costume. Alice Mac-
Gowan was fairly driven out of a mountain county
in Kentucky because she wore riding breeches, and
yet many's the time I have seen a mountain woman
riding astride a man's saddle in an undivided long
skirt. O Modesty, what crimes have been com-
mitted in thy name
— — —
CHAPTER X
PERSONAL KITS
When one going into fixed camp, the best car-
is
tier for his personal belongings is a common steamer
trunk — a light one, but long enough to take in the

fishing rods. For canoe, pack train, or automobile,
the kit will be much smaller, of course, and may be
carried in one of the bed rolls already described, or
in a knapsack, or a dunnage bag, according to cir-
cumstances.
Dunnage Bag. —Acommon sailor's bag or
" war bag " (simple canvas sack closed by a pucker-
ing cord) has the merit of simplicity, but it is not
CL05EP
Fig. loo. Fig. loi. Fig. I02.

Dunnage Bag Kit or Provision Screw Hook Fas-
Pack tening for Box
Lid
water-tight. If a bag is used for packing, get from,

a camp outfitter what he calls a duffel bag (Fig,
icx)), of waterproof canvas, made with an inside
neck or throat-piece that is tied tightly before the
i6d
PERSONAL KITS 165
outside Is closed. Then it will keep the contents

dry even if your graft should fill or capsize. It
should be about 3 iêet long and 12 inches in diame-
ter. Get a good quality, reasonably snag-proof, and
with extra-strong seams and handles. If it is to be
shipped as baggage, have it fasten with chain and
padlock. I would not use a bag at all unless it was
perfectly water-tight, for that is Its only point of
superiority; on the other hand, it is bothersome Jfe^
pack, and when you want anything out of a bag X
you generally have to dump all th^ contents ^n tlê,. %
ground to find It.
^ //;>^. O^ 4^
The pack shown In Fig. loi Is almost as good
protection against wet, and a deal handier. The
top edge, AB, is stiffened by a stick, to hang It up
by in camp, and there are pockets to keep things
separated. To close it, fold in the sides, bringing
front and back together, roll up, and strap.
Ditty Boxes, Pouches. —
Everyone will fit up
chese things to suit himself. When practicable to
carry It, I prefer to put my small odds-and-ends In
one or two low cigar boxes (the 50-sIze), with par-
titions, the lid being secured by a small screw-hook
(Fig. 102). Otherwise little bags of cloth or soft
leather answer the purpose.
As on one's person, my rea-
for pouches to carry
sons tor not liking them will be given under the
head of Walkixg Trips, In Volume II.
Hatchet. — A woodsman should carry a hatchet,
and he should be as critical in selecting It as In buy-
ing a gun. The notion that a heavy hunting knife
can do the work of a hatchet Is a delusion. When
it comes to cleaving carcasses, chopping kindling,
blazing thick-barked trees, driving tent pegs or trap

stakes, and keeping up a bivouac fire, the knife never
was made that will compare with a good tomahawk.
The common hatchets of the hardware stores are
unfit for a woodsman's use. They have broad
blades with beveled edge, and they are generally
made of poor, brittle stuff. A
camper's hatchet
i66 CAxVIPING AND WOODCRAFT
should have the edge and temper of a good axe. It
must be light enough to carry in. or on one's knap-
sack, yet ft should bite deep in timber. The best
hatchet I have used (and it has been viîth me in the
mountains for seven or eight years) is one shown in
Fig. 103, except that the handle is a straight one,
17-inch, that I made myself. Its wêight, with
leather sheath, is i lb. 10 oz. With this keen little
Fig. 103. — Hatchet

tool I have cut many a cord of the hardest woods —
hickory, oak, dogwood, beech, etc. —
up to young
trees eight or more inches thick, often laying in a
winter night's wood with it. (The way to learn
chopping is to go slow, give your attention to
all
making every blow tell just where it is needed, and
don't strike too hard.)
Sheath Knife.— On the subject of hunting
knives I am tempted to be diffuse. In my green
and callow days I tried nearly everything in the
knife line from a shoemaker's skiver to a machete,
and I had knives made to order. The conventional
hunting knife is, or was until recently, of the familiar
dime-novel pattern invented by Colonel Bowie. It
is too thick and clumsy to whittle
with, much too
thick for a good skinning knife, and too sharply
pointed to cook and eat with. It is always tempered
too hard. When put to the rough service for which
it is supposed to be intended,
as in cutting through
the ossified false ribs of an old buck, it is an even
bet that out will come a nick as big as a saw-tooth
— and Sheridan forty miles from a grindstone!
Siirh a knife, ^s 4iaped ^xpresslv for
stabbing, which
;
PERSONAL KITS 167
is about the very last thing that a woodsman evcT
has occasion to do, our lamented grandmothers to

the contrary notwithstanding.
Many hunters do not carry sheath knives, saying
(and it is quite true) that a common jackknife will
skin anything from a squirrel to a bear. Still, I
like a small, light sheath knife. It is always open

and *' get-at-able," ready not only for skinning game
snd cleaning fish, but for cutting sticks, slicing bread
and bacon and peeling " spuds." It saves the pocket
knife from wet and messy work, and preserves its
edge for the fine jobs.
For years I used knives of my own design, because
there was nothing on the market that met my notion
of what a sensible, practical sheath knife should be
but wê have it now in the knife here shown (Fig.
104). It is of the right size (4^-inch blade), the
Fig. 104. — Sheath Knife

right shape, and the proper thinness. I ground the
front part of the back of mine to a blunt bevel edge
for scaling fish and disarticulating joints. The
sheath being flimsy, and the buttoned band a nui-
sance, I made one of good leather that binds well up
on the handle and is fastened together with copper
rivets besides the sewing.
Cutlery should be of the best steel obtainable.
Knicks and dull edges are abominations, so use
knives and hatchets for nothing but w^hat they were
made for, and whet them a little every day that they
are in service.
Pocket Knife. — Thejackknife has one stout
blade equal to whittling seasoned hickory, and two
small blades, of which one is ground thin for such
surgery as you may have to perform (keep it clean).
Beware of combination knives; they may be pas5-
1 68 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
able corkscrews and can openers, but that is about
all.
Compass. —
This instrument may not often be
needed to guide one's course, but it is like the pro-
verbial pistol in Texas. Besides, it is useful in read-
ing a map, and indispensable for route sketching.
If you get one of the common kind with both ends
simply pointed and the north one blued or blackened
scratch B =
N (Blue equals North) on the case.
This seems like an absurd precaution, does it not?
Well, it will not seem so if you get lost. Tlie first
time that a man loses his bearings in the wilderness
his wits refuse to work. He cannot, to save his life,
remember whether the black end of the needle is
north or south. Once when I got lost in the
big woods I was not frightened, and yet I did a per-
fectly idiotic thing: to hold my compass level and
steady I set it on the thick muzzle of my rifle barrel!
That made the needle swing away out of true. It
was ten minutes before I thought of this, and tried
again, with all iron carefully put aside. That shows
what a dunderhead a fellow can be, even when he is
fairly cool.
accumulates inside the case of a compass
If dust
it may with its true pointing, and
interfere a little
moisture will do so. But, so long as the needle
moves freely, do not quarrel with it, no matter how
sure you may think you are that it has been be-
witched.
A
compass with revolving dial (card compass) is
somewhat easier to use than one with a needle, be-
cause the N
on the dial alwaj^s points north, no mat-
ter which way you turn but it must be rather bulky,
;
to traverse freely, is not so sensitive as a needle, and

wears the pivot faster.
There are compasses with dials illuminated by a
radio-active substance that are handy to use at night.
The old-fashioned " luminous " compasses that have
to be exposed to sunlight every day are not worth
the extra cost, for you will forget to attend to them.
—
PERSONAL KITS 169
Anv'Avay, a woodsman should carry a pocket electric

flasher, and, with that along, a common compass
serves very well.
My
favorite compass is of a pattern known as the
" Explorer's," as here shown (Fig.
105), except that
it has a hinged cover. Twice I have
crushed the glasses of open faced com-
passes and ruined the pivots. The
moveable arrow is to be set toward
one's objective, when the needle points
north it then indicates the general di-
;
rection of the course. The dial is of

l^ inches diameter, and is divided
mto spaces of two degrees, Fig. 105.
reading
from left to right, which is better for
^""^^^^H '^j^^_
an amateur than the contrary reading j.^^
of a surveyor's compass.
Theuse of the compass will be explained in Vol.
II, under the head of Route Sketching.
I wear the instrument in a small pocket sewed on
my shirt for that purpose, so It fits, and attach it to
H button-hole by a short, strong cord. A long cord
would catch in brush. If the compass is carried
in a large pocket it will flop out when you stoop
over or fall down. Sometimes, when mapping, I
nave worn one in a leather bracelet, like a wrist-
watch but a better way is to attach it, at such tmie,
;
to the little board that your cross-section paper is

tacked on.
Watch. — Ordinarily a cheap watch Is good
enough for the woods. If you do carry a good one,
and it is open-faced, there is a good way to protect it
from wet that I read some 3êars ago in a sportsman's
journal. This also helps to keep it from falling out
of a pocket. To keep one's watch dry, even though
''
you go overboard, take a piece of pure rubber dental

dam 8 inches square, put the watch In the center, and
bring the rubber together at the stem, tying the
puckered up rubber with a bit of strings When you
wkh to see the face, simply stretch the rubber over
the front and you can see the hands clearly through
It."
If it Is desired to make a sketch-map of some
region for which you cannot obtain a governmenL
topographical sheet, and the country is too rough
for pacing, it will help if one member of the party
carries a stop-watch, with which to estimate distances
by the sound of pistol shots, as described in Vol. II.
Whistle. —A
party traveling in thick woods
with only an old line of blazes to guide them may
have to deploy to find the marks. It will save time,
and perhaps a good deal of searching for each other,
if they have shrill whistles and a prearranged code
5f signals. The army officer's whistle is a good one.
Maps. —
Write to The Director, U. S. Geolog-
ical Survey, Washington, D. C, for an index map
showing what topographical sheets have been pub-
lished for the State that you are to travel in. These
sheets are sold at ten each (no
cents stamps).
Their character is described as follows:
The UnitedStates Geological Survey has been engaged

since organization in making a topographic survey and
its
map of the United States. The unit of survey is a quad-
rangle 15', 30', or 1° in extent each way, covering an
area of one-sixteenth, one-fourth, or one " square de-
gree," The unit of publication is an atlas sheet 16^ by
20 inches, and each sheet is a topographic map of one of
the above areas. As the atlas sheets are uniform in size,
the greater the area covered the smaller the scale of the
map. The scale of the full degree sheet is i: 250,000,
that of the 30' sheet is i: 125,000, and that of the 15'
sheet 1 62,500.
: Asheet is designated by the name of
some well-known place or feature appearing on it, and
the names of adjoining published sheets are printed on
the margins. The maps are engraved on copper and
printed from stone. The cultural features, such as roads,
railroads, cities, towns, etc., as well as all lettering, are
in black; all water features are printed in blue; while
the hill features are shown by brown contour lines.
The contour interval varies with the scale of the map
and the relief of the country.
These maps vary in merit. For some of the

wilder and rougher regions they are only recon-
— —
PERSONAL KITS 171
aolssance maps and full of minor inaccuracies; but

they are revised from time to time. good part A
of the continental United States has already been
surveyed.
Maps may be cut in sections and mounted on
muslin in such way that they fold conveniently for
the pocket, but there should be a cover to protect
them from soiling and wet.
A better wây is to use what the French call a
liseur de cartes. There are many models and sizes,
but all are alike in principle. The simplest form is
a leather pocket to contain map sections, faced with
Fig. 106. Fig. 107.

Map Case U. S. A. Dispatch Case
transparent celluloid, ruled in squares, for the par-

ticular section in use at the time. Then there is no
need of mounting the map on cloth (such a backing
is likely to loosen in the humid air of the forest,
and the edges will fray), nor is there risk of the

map being soiled, torn, injured by rain, or blown
away.
If one has much mapping, sketching, or writing
to do, he may well carry a military dispatch case,
of which one pattern is shown in Fig. 106, made of
olive drab web. with celluloid windows divided into
I -inch pockets for stationery, pencils, di-
squares,
viders, etc., and
fitted with a military compass, or
not, as one desires. The regulation U. S. Army
dispatch case is of leather (Fig. 107).
For ordinary purposes a pocket case is more con-
venient. The London tackle makers, C. Farlow &
Co., sell, at 5s. 6d. postpaid, a leather " fly and cast
case," 5 X 4}^ inches, with
transparent pockets
six
of celluloid. A
topographical sheet by the U. S.
Geological Survey cuts into twelve sections that fit
these pockets, two in each, back to back. Number
the sections to show how they join. Small sheets of
quadrille ruled paper for notes and route sketching
go in the same case. The maps can readily be con-
sulted without the bother of unfolding in a wind,
and are protected.
Stationery. —
Note-books and
writing paper
should be quadrille ruled, for convenience in map-
ping and drawing to scale. A
loose-leaf memoran-
dum book is best: then you can file your notes in a
safe place every evening. Postal cards may suffice
for correspondence. If envelopes are carried, let
them be of linen, and take along a small stick of
sealing-wax. Linen wears better than paper in the
pocket of a native messenger. Gummed envelopes,
in a moist climate, seal themselves before 3ôu want
to use them. Sealing-wax thwarts the inquisitive
rural postmaster and his family. On the route out
from camp your mail may go through many hands:
a bon entendeur salut! Carry stamps in books, not
sheets.
A self-filling fountain pen, and a bottle of ink
with screw top held tight by a spring, an indelible
pencil for marking specimens or packages for ship-
ment, and several large rubber bands, may be needed,
according to circumstances.
Take along an almanac to regulate the watch,
show the moon's changes (tides, if near the coast),
and, by them, to determine the day of the month
and week, which one is very apt to forget when he
PERSONAL KITS 173
ISaway from civilization. Have a time-table of the
railroad that you expect to return by.
Matchbox. —
Do not omit a waterproof match-
box, of such pattern as has a cover that cannot drop
off. I prefer a flat one. It can be opened wirh
one hand. The matches in this box are to be used
only in emergency. Carry the daily supply loose
where you can get at them. For this purpose I like
a pigskin pocket with snap-button, worn on the belt.
The matches I waterproof, before starting, by dip-
ping them half-length in shellac varnish thinned
with alcohol to the right consistency, which is found
by experiment, and laying them out separately on a
newspaper to dry. This is better than using paraf-
fine or collodion, because shellac does not wear off,
and it is itself inflammable, like sealing-wax.
Matches so treated can be left a long time in water
without spoiling.
Abit of candle is a handy thing to start fire with
wet wood, besides its other obvious use in an emer-
gency. Sick-room candles are less bulky than com-
mon ones, burn brighter, and last longer.
Flashlight. — To find things in the tent at
night, or to find one's way if belated, a pocket elec-
tric flasher is so useful that a camper should always
carry one. Get one with round edges
that will not
wear holes in the pocket. The
kind shaped like a
fountain pen is all right in some cases, but not on
hunting or fishing trips: the less bright metal you
expose, the better.
Eye Glasses. — you wear them, carry a spare
If
pair; the woods on such things.
are hard
The glare of the sun on water, or snow, or in
deserts, is often very trying. The best sun glasses
are what are called shooting glasses, of amber color,
w^hich excludes
the ultra-violet are rays. They
large enough to protect the eyes against wind, dust,
and flying insects. They come handy when one is
"
pursued for an hour by a swarm of *'
red pepper
gnats that are bent on suicide and on blinding some
body in doing it.
First Aid Kits. —
There are many kinds of
pocket medicine cases, and of first aid boxes fitted
with both medical and surgical supplies. Most of
them are too large and heavy to be carried con-
stantly on the person when a man is afield they will :
be left in camp —and camp is not the place where

accidents are most likely to occur.
It is quite important that the little store of first
aid appliances that one does keep always at hand
should be contained in a case that is air-tight and
aseptic, yet easy to open and close. I have not seen
a ready fitted emergency case that is so, except the
soldier's first aid packet, which is hermetically sealed
in either tin or impermeable cloth. This package
contains a triangular bandage, one or two compresses
of sublimated gauze, two safety pins, and instruc-
tions.
A triangular bandage is made by
dividing a piece
of muslin a yard square into halves by a diagonal
cut joining two opposite corners, and thoroughly
sterilizing it. Cuts are printed on it showing how
to bandage any major part of the body. Roller
bandages are difficult for untrained people to handle,
but anyone can see almost at a glance how to use the
triangular one. A folded neckerchief, or any tri-
angular piece of cloth, will do as a makeshift, if an
aseptic dressing is first applied, in case of an open
wound. How to fold the bandage before applying

is shown in Fig. io8. Atourniquet to check bleed-
ing is made by folding into a narrow cravat, as indi-
cated, and then twisting into rope form.
The soldier's packet is intended for a first dressing
of gunshot wounds, fractures (with the aid of im-
provised splints), and other serious injuries. One
would not care to open it if he merely had cut his
thumb, skinned his knuckle, or blistered his heel.
Yet it is the lesser injuries that we are most apt to
suffer^ and they certainly should be treated anti-
—
PERSONAL KITS 175
septically on the spot, lest grave consequences fol-

low.
So, get a small tin tobacco box, flat, with rounded
corners boil it in two waters, and dry thoroughly.
;
Then pack it as follows: From the American Na'

tional Red Cross, Washington, D. C, get a packet
of dressings for small cuts, etc., and one of fingei
dressings. The
former dressing is a gauze com<
press, 3x3 sewed to a muslin bandage an
inches,
inch wide and a yard long; the latter is similar but
smaller. Get from them also a few ampules of
3/^% tincture of iodine in wooden containers.
All these are cheap, but very effective and easy to
apply. Put one large dressing, a couple of smaller
Fig. 108.
To Fold Triangular Bandage. D Folds foi
—
ABC —
Broad Cravat. AB, ef, gh Folds for Narrow Cravat
ones, and an ampule, in your tin box, and the rest

in the camp medical kit.
At the druggist's get some large capsules, and tab-
letsof cascara, intestinal antiseptic, aspirin, potas-
sium permanganate, and strychnine. Put a few tab-
lets of each in capsule, label, and stow in box.
Calomel and epsom salts may be added (one dose
jf the latter), or what you please. Fill whatever
room is left with absorbent cotton. Then seal the
box air-tight by running a narrow strip of the ad-
hesive plaster around it. This is easy to open, and
can be used over again many times.
In treating a wound, seize the end of the ampule
that is encased in gauze and break off or crush the
poin* of the glass, then hold the broken end down
until the gauzeis saturated with the iodine, clap
directly to the surface of the wound, and apply

either the larger or smaller dressing. A
little emer-
gency case of this sort is one of the most valuable

pocket pieces that a man can carry on an outing.
Insect " dopes " are discussed in Chapter XIV.
Pocket Repair Kit. —
Only a little of this and
that, fitted into a quite small wallet. pair of A
tiny, sharp-pointed scissors for trimming dressings,
rigging tackle, and so on pointed tweezers that can
;
be used as dressing forceps, to remove splinters, and

in manipulating gut for flies or leaders; some dental
floss for emergency repairs on rods and the like;
some I -inch adhesive plaster; a needle or two, waxed
linen thread on card, spare buttons, safety pins; one
or two large rubber bands; a spare shoe lace; some
strong twine two feet of copper snare wire a short
; ;
rigged fishline, a few assorted hooks, minnow hooks

with half the barb filed off, two or three split shot
(tackle invaluable if you get lost) pipe cleaners
;
(if you smoke) : this exhausts the list of my own se-

lection.
Toilet Articles. — A small cake of soap in an
oiled silkbag or a rubber tobacco pouch is convenient
for light marching: compact, and does not rattle
around. " Grandpa's " tar soap makes a good
lather in any kind of water, hard or soft, warm or
cold. Towels should be old (soft) and rather small
(easy to wash and dry out). A pocket mirror is
handy not only for toilet purposes but to examine
mouth and throat or in removing a foreign substance
from the eye. Other articles as required. On a
hard trip cut out all but towel, soap, toothbrush,
comb, and mirror.
Camera. — One cuts his coat according to his
cloth, but you can afford a camera with quick lens
if
and high-speed shutter, it wnll pay well in good pic-

tures. On wilderness trips it is the rule, not the
'exception, that you must
*'
shoot " when the light is
Door.
PERSONAL KITS 177
Again, you want a picture that tells a story, a true

story, and, nine times out of ten, the only way to
get by a snapshot taken unawares. When peo-
it is
ple pose for a camp scene or any other picture they

are self-conscious, stiff, or showing off.
Your chance to get a story-picture always pops
up unexpectedly. You must work quickly, or not
at all. There is no chance to manoeuvre for posi-
tion, no time to wait on the sun. And if your
camera is too large to carry in a pocket or on your
belt, then, two to one, you haven't got it with you.
So get a camera not over 3^ x 4j4> with special lens
and shutter, if you can. At best you will spoil a
good many exposures, and you can well afford to
have the really good ones enlarged.
A handy way to carry a camera is to remove the
sling, cut two slits in back of leather case, and wear
it on your belt over the hip. Then it is out of the
way, does not dangle when you stoop nor flop when
you run, and yet is instantly at your service.
Field Glasses. —The only satisfactory ones are
those small enough to go with you everywhere, yet
with good definition and wide field of view. This
means prism binoculars of moderate power, say 6
diameters, or perhaps 8 for sheep or goat hunting.
Opera glasses do very well for bird study.
Gome other articles of personal equipment, such
as knapsacks and their substitutes, canteens, and in-
dividual cooking kits, will be discussed in Vol. II
under the head of Walking Trips.
:
CHAPTER XI
PROVISIONS
When a party camps where fresh meat and farm
products can be procured as they are wanted, its
provisioning is chiefly a matter of taste, and calls
for no special comment here. But to have good
meals in the wilderness is a different matter. A
man will eat five or six pounds a day of fresh foodc
That is a heavy load on the trail. And fresh meat,
dairy products, fruit, and vegetables, are generally
too bulky, too perishable. So it is up to the woods-
man to learn how to get the most nourishment out
of the least weight and bulk, in materials that
" keep " well.
Light outfitting, as regards food, is mainly a ques-
tion of how much water we are willing to carr}' in
our rations. For instance, canned peaches are 88
per cent, water. Can one afford to carry so much
water from home when there is plenty of it at camp,^
The following table is suggestive
More than % Water.
Fresh milk, fruit, vegetables (e^ccept potatoes).
Canned soups, tomatoeSj peaches, pears, etc.
More than H Water.
Fresh beef, veal, mutton, poultry, eggs, potatoef
Canned corn, baked beans, pineapple.
Evaported milk (unsweetened).
More than Y^ Water.
Fresh bread, rolls, pork chops.
Potted chicken, etc.
Cheese.
Canned blackberries.
178
i"Kuvit)iUi\:5 r79
Less than Vs Water.
Dried apples, apricots, peaches, prunes*
Fruit jelly.
Less than y^ IVater.

Salt pork. Bacon. Dried fish. Butter.
Desiccated eggs. Concentrated soups.
Powdered milk.
Wheat flour, corn meal, etc. Macaroni.
Rice, oatmeal, hominy, etc.
Dried beans, split peas.
Dehydrated vegetables.
Dried dates, figs, raisins.
Orange marmalade. Sugar. Chocolate.
Nuts. Nut butter.
Although this table is good in its way, it is not

a fair measure of the relative value of foods. Even
the solid part of some foodstuffs contains a good
deal of refuse (fresh potatoes 20 per cent.), while
others have none.
Nutritive Values. —
The nutritive elements of
foodstuffs are protein, a little mineral matter, fats,
and carbohydrates. Protein is the basis of muscle,
bone, tendon, cartilage, skin, and the corpuscles of
the blood. Fats and carbohydrates supply heat and
muscular energy. In other words, the human body
is an engine; protem keeps it in repair; fats and
carbohydrates are the fuel to run it.

Familiar examples of proteids are lean meat and
white of egg. The chief food fats are fat meat,
butter, lard, oil, and cream. Carbohydrates are
starchy foods (flour, cereals, etc.) and sugar (sweets
of almost any kind).
Protein is the most important element of food,
because nothing else can take its place in building up
tissues and enriching the fluids of the body, whereas,
in emergency, it can also supply power and heat, and
thus run the human machine for a while without
other fuel.
Men can live on foods deficient in protein, such
as rice and potatoes, but they become anemic, weak,
and subject to beriberi, pellagra, or other serious
'i8o CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
disease. Anyone can observe
for himself the evil
effects of a diet poor in protein but rich in heating
power by traveling through our " hog and hom-
iny belt." Fat pork contains hardly any protein;
neither do the cabbage and potatoes that usually
flank it on the negro's or poor-white's table. As
for corn bread, when made as a plain hoecake or
the like, it is in much the same class, and what
protein it does contain is difficult to digest.
On the other hand, anundue proportion of lean
meat, fish, dried beans, and other high-proteid foods,
brings another train of ills. As Dr. Atwater says,
"A dog can live on lean meat: he can convert its
material into muscle and its energy into heat and
muscular power. Man can do the same; but such
a one-sided diet would not be best for the dog, and
it would be still worse for the man."
The problem of a well-balanced ration consists

in supplying daily the right proportion of nutritive
elements in agreeable and digestible form. The
problem of a campaign ration is the same, but cut-
ting out most of the water and waste in which fresh
foods abound. However, in getting rid of the
water in fresh meats, fruits, and vegetables, w**.
lose, unfortunately, much of the volatile essences
that give these foods their good flavors. This loss
— and it is a serious one —
must be made up by
the camp cook changing the menu as often as he can,
by varying the ingredients and the processes of cook-
ing.
Variety is quite as welcome at the camp board
as anjovhere else — in fact more so, for it is harder
to get. Variety need not mean adding to the load-
It means substituting, say, three 5-lb. parcels for one
15-lb. parcel, so as to have something "different"
from day to day.
There is an old school of campers who affect to
scorn such things. "'
We
take nothing with us,"
they say, " but pork, flour, baking powder, salt,
sugar, and coffee —
our guns and rods furnish ws
\^Jirietv." This sounds sturdy, but there is a dea^
PROVISIONS i8i
of humbug In it. A
spell of bad weather may de
feat the best of hunters and fishermen. Even grant-
ing that luck is good, the kill is likely to be of one
kind at a time. With only the six articles named,
nobody can serve the same game in a variety of
ways. Now, consider a moment. How would you
like to sit down to nothing but fried chicken and
biscuit, three times a day? Chicken everlastingly
fried in pork grease —
and, if you tire of that, well,
eat fried " sow-belly," and sop your bread in the
grease! It is just the same with trout or bass as
it is with chicken ; the same with pheasant or duck,
rabbit or squirrel or bear. The only kind of wild
meat that civilized man can relish for three con-
secutive meals, served in the same fashion, is veni-
son of the deer family. Go, then, prepared to lend
variety to your menu. Food that palls is bad food
— worse in camp than anywhere else, for you can't
escape to a restaurant.
Food as a Source of Energy. — The energy
developed by food is measured in calories. A calorie
is the amount of heat required to raise one pound
of water through four degrees Fahrenheit. man A
at moderately active muscular work requires about
3,400 calories of food-fuel a day; one at hard mus-
cular work, about 4,150; one at very hard work,
about 5,500 calories (Atwater's figures).
According to the latest data supplied me by the
U. S. Department of Agriculture (February, 19 16)
the fuel value of protein is about 1,815 calories per
pound, that of carbohydrates is the same, and that
of fats is about 4,080 calories per pound.
" A pound of wheat flour, which consists largely
of starch, has an average fuel value of about 1,625
calories, and a pound of butter, which is mostly fat,
about 3,410 calories. These are only about one-
eighth water. Whole milk, which is seven-eighths
wâter, has an average fuel value of 310 calories per
pound; cream, which has more fat and less water,
865 calories, and skim milk, which is whole milk
after the cream has been removed, 165 calories.
.. 9 — o 1 5

This high fuel value of fat explains the economy ot
nature in storing fat in the body for use in case of
need. Fat is the most concentrated form of body
fuel."
I have compiled the following table of food values,
with special reference to the camp commissariat,
from various reports of the U. S. Department of
Agriculture. Some of the figures for fuel value, I
am informed, were computed by using the factors
given above others were derived from actual deter-
;
minations of the heat of combustion and the diges-

tibility of the food materials.
AVERAGE NUTRIENTS OF FOODS

REMAINING PERCENTAGES CONSIST OF WATER AND REFUSE
Fuel
Food materials Pro- Car- value
(as purchased) tein Fat bohy- Ash per
drates pound
Cal-
Per ct. Per ct. Per ct. Per ct. orics
Animal Food
Beef, fresh:
Loin o 16.1 17-5 0.9 1,025
Ribs 13-9 21.2 0.7 1,135
Round 19.0 12.8 i.o 890
Beef, cured:
Corned 14.3 23.8 4.6 i,24o
Dried 26.4 6.9 8.9 790
Salted (mess beef) 1 1.2 39-9 5-9 1,890
Tongue, pickled . II. 19.2 4-3 1,010
Beef, canned:
Boiled 25-5 22.5 1-3 1, 4-'
Corned 26.3 18.7 4.0 1,280
Roast 25-9 14.8 1-3 1,105
Tongue, ground . . 19-5 23.2 4.0 1,340
Pork, cured:
Bacon, smoked . . 9.1 62.2 4.1 2,71*.
Ham smoked .... 14.2 33-4 4.2 1,635
Salt pork 1.9 86.2 3-9 3.555
Lard 100. 4,080
Pork, canned:
Ham, deviled .... 19.0 34-1 2-2, 1,790
râusage:
Bologna 18.2 19.7 3-8 1,155
Summer 24-5 42.! 7.0 2,230
sausage, canned:
Frankfort 14.9 9.9 2.S 695
Oxford 9.9 58.5 0.6 2. I 2,665
Pork 145 21.6 1.8 1,180
Soups, canned (not
dried):
Beef 4.4 0.4 1. 120
Chicken 2.9 3-3 5-1 1.6 300
Cream of celery. 2.1 5-0 1-5 235
Tomato 1.8 5.6 1-5 i8S
Poultry, fresh:
Chicken 14.4 12.6 0,7
Table continued
PRUVISIONS 1^3
Food materials
.. 1 o o
1

Food materials Pro- Car-
(as purchased) tein
Fat bohy- Ash
drates
Bread, etc.: Per ct. Per ct. Per ct. Per ct.
Boston brown
bread 6.3 45-8 1.9
Cake, sweet 6.3 9.0 63.3 1.5
Crackers, soda . > 9.8 9.1 73-1 2.1
Hoecake (plain
corn bread) . . 4.0 0.6 40.2 2.4
Johnnycake 7.8 2.2 57-7 2.9
-
Rye bread 9.0 0.6 53 1-5
Wheat bread, white 9.2 1.3 53-1 I.I
Whole-wheat bread 9 7 0.9 49-7 1-3
Sweets:
Candy, plain 96.0
Cane molasses . . . 70.0
Cherry jelly 77.2 0.7
Honey 81.0
Maple sirup 71.4
Orange marmalade 0.6 84.5 0-3
Sugar, granulated. 100.
Vegetables, fresh:
Onions 1.4 0.3 8.9 0.5
Potatoes 1.8 0.1 14.7 0.8
Vêgetables, canned:
Beans, baked .... 6.9 2.5 19.6 2.1
Corn, sweet 2.8 1.2 19.0 0.9
Peas 3.6 0.2 9.8 I.I
Tomatoer 1.2 0.2 4.0 0.6
Vêgetables, dried:
Beans, navy 22.5 1.8 59.6 3.5
Carrots, desiccated 7-7 0.6 80.3 4.9
Peas, split 24.6 1.0 62.0 2.9
Nuts:
Almonds 21.4 54.4 16.8 2.5
Cocoanut, desic-
cated 6.3 57-4 31.5 1-3
Peanuts 29.8 43.5 17. 1 2.2
Peanut butter .... 29-3 46.5 1 7. 5-0
Pecans 12.1 70.7 12.2 1.6
Fruits, fresh:
Apples 0.4 0.5 14.2 0.3
Bananas 1-3 0.6 22.0 0.8
Cranberries 0.4 0.6 9-9 0.2
Lemons i.o 0.7 8.5 0.5
Oranges 0.8 0.2 II. 6 0.5
Fruits, canned:
Blackberries u,8 2.1 56.4 0.7
Cherries . I.I 0.1 21. 1 0.5
Olives, pickled . I.I 27.6 II. 6 1-7
Peaches 0.7 0.1 10.8 0.3
Pineapples 0.4 0.7 36.4 0.7
Fruits, dried:
Apples 1.6 2.2 68.1 2.0
Apricots 4.7 1.0 62.5 2.4
Dates, pitted 2.1 2.8 78.4 1.3
Figs 4-3 0.3 74.2 2.4
Prunes, pitted . . . 2. 73-3 2.3
Raisins 2.6 3.3 76.1 3-4
Miscellaneous:
Chocolate 12.9 48.7 30.3 2.2
Cocoa 21.6 28.9 37-7 7.2
Olive Oil 100.
PROVISIONS 185
Coffee, " cereal coffee," tea, condiments, and common
beef extracts contain practically no nutriment, their func-
tion being to stimulate the nerves and digestive organs, to
add agreeable flavor, or, in the case of salt, to furnish
a necessary mineral ingredient.
Digestibility. — In applying the above table we

must bear in mind the adage that " we live not
upon what we eat but upon what we digest." Some
foods rich in protein, especially beans, peas, and
oat meal, are not easily assimilated, unless cooked
for a longer time than campers generally can spare.
A considerable part of their protein is liable to
putrefy in the alimentary canal, and so be worse
than wasted. An excess of meat or fish will do the
same thing. Other foods of very high theoretical
value are constipating if used in large amounts, as
cheese, nuts, chocolate.
The protein of animal food is more digestible than
that of vegetable food by about 13 per cent, (aver-
age), and the protein of wheat is more easily as-
similated than that of corn or oats. I quote the
following from an article on army rations by Dr.
I
Woods Hutchinson:
" Every imaginable grain, nut, root, pith or pulp that
contains starch has been tried out as a substitute for it
[wheat] because these are either cheaper in proportion
to their starch content than wheat or can be grown in
climates and latitudes where wheat will not flourish.
Corn has been tried in the subtropics, rice in the tropics,
oats, rye and barley in the north temperate zone, potatoes,
sago from the palm, and tapioca from the manioc root.
" Only the net result can be given here, which is that no
civilized nation that can raise the money or provide the
transportation to get wheat will allow its army to live on
any other yet discovered or invented grain or starch.
Rice, corn meal, potatoes, sago and tapioca are, of course,
ruled out at once, because they contain only starch and
nothing to match in the slightest degree the twelve or
fourteen per cent, of gluten, or vegetable meat, that gives
wheat its supreme value.
"After our first food analyses a desperate attempt was
made to substitute corn for wheat, because it contained
from five to seven per cent, of protein —
called zein a —
perfectly good protein in *h^ books and in the lîboratories/
—
but it simply would not work in the held. Armies itd on
it promptly showed signs of nitrogen starvation; aid,
about thirty years later, up came our physiologists with
the belated explanation that, though zein was a right-
enough protein in composition and chemical structure, only
about a third of it could be utilized in the human body.
"Even the purely Oriental nations — the Japanese, Chi-
nese and Hindus — born and brought up on rice, have
formally abandoned it in their army ration and have en-
deavored to substitute wheat for it, though expense and the
inborn prejudices of their soldiers have proved consider-
able obstacles. Troops or nations fed on rice are sub-
ject to beriberi and are cured by a diet rich in protein^
either vegetable or animal, wheat or meat. Meat and
wheat in the ration have wiped out four-fifths of the beri-
beri in the Japanese army and navy. Those fed on corn
become subject to pellagra, which is ravaging our South-
ern States to-day.
" As for the northern grains, barley, rye and oats,
which also contain some gluten, these are all Inferior to
wheat —
rye and barley on account of their low protein
content and considerable bulk of innutritions, gelatinous
and gummy materials, which disturb the digestion; and
oats on account of the irritating bitter extractives with
which their high percentage of protein is combined. No-
body but a Scotchman can live on oatmeal as his sole
breadstuff; and it has taken generations of training and
gallons of whisky on the side to enable him to dc it."
This is not saying that the grains here condemned

are not good and proper food when used in the right
combination with other nutrients; but it is saying
that neither of them is fit for continuous use as the
mainstay of one's rations.
Food Components. — Let us now consider the
material of field rations, item by item.
Bacon. —
Good old breakfast bacon worthily heads
the list, for it is the campaigner's stand-by. It
keeps well in any climate, and demands no special
care in packing. It is easy to cook, combines well
with almost anything, is handier than lard to fry
things with, does just as well to shorten bread or
biscuits, Is very nutritious, and nearly everybody
likes it. Take It with you from home, for you can
seldom buy it away from railroad towns. Get the
boneless, in 5 to 8-lb. flitches. Let canned bacon
PROVISIONS 187
alone: it lacks flavor, and costs more than it is
worth. A little mould on the outside of a flitch
does no harm, but reject bacon that is soft and
watery, or with jellow fat, or with brownish or
black spots in the lean.
Salt Pork {alias middlings, sides, bellies, Old
Ned, et al.). — Commendable or accursed, according
to how it is used. Nothing quite equals it in bak-
ing beans. Savory in some boiled dishes. When
fried, as a piece de resistance, it successfully resists
most people's gastric juices, and is nauseous to many.
Purchaseable at most frontier posts and at many
backwoods farms.
Smoked Ham. —
Small ones generally are tough
and too salty. Hard to keep in warm or damp
weather; moulds easily. Is attractive to blow-flies,
which quickly fill it with " skippers," if they can
get at it. It kept in a cheesecloth bag, and hung
in a cool, airy place, a ham will last until eaten up,
and will be relished. Ham will
keep, even in warm
weather, if packed in a stout paper bag so as to
exclude flies. It will keep indefinitely if sliced,
boiled, or fried, and put up in tins with melted lard
poured over it to keep out air.
Dried Beef. —
Cuts from large hams are best.
Of limited use in pick-up meals. A
notorious thirst-
breeder. Not comparable to *' jerked " beef, which,
unfortunately, is not ia the market. (For the proc-
ess of jerking venison, see Chapter XV.)
Canned Meats and Poultry of all descriptions
are quite unfit for steady diet. Devilled or potted
ham, chicken, tongue, sausage, and the like, are
endurable at picnics, and valuable in emergencies,
as when a hard storm makes outdoor cooking im-
possible. Canned corned beef makes a passable
hash.
There a great difference in quality of canned
is
meats. The cheaper brands found in every grocery

store are, generally, abominations. Common canned
" roast beef," for example (which has never been
'toasted at all. but boiled) is stringv, tasteless, and
repugnant. Get catalogues from well-known gro-
cers in the large cities who handle first-class goods.
Never eat meat that has been standing in an
opened can: it soon undergoes putrefactive changes.
A bulged can (unless frozen) indicates spoiled con-
tents. If ever you have to treat a case of ptomaine
poisoning you will not soon forget it.
Canned Soups. —
These are wholesome enough,
but the fluid kinds are very bulky for their meagre
nutritive value. However, a few cans of consomme
are fine for " stock " in camp soups or stews, and
invaluable in case of sickness. Here, as with canned
meat, avoid the country grocery kind.
Condensed Soups. —
Soup powders are a great
help in time of trouble —
but don't rely on them
for a full meal. There are some that are complete
in themselves and require nothing but 15 to 20
minutes' cooking; others take longer, and demand
(in small type on the label) the addition of ingredi-
ents that generally you haven't got. Try various
brands at home, till you find what you like.
Cured Fish. — Shredded codfish, and smoked hali"
but, sprats, boneless herring, are portable and keep
well. They will be relished for variety sake.
Canned Fish. —
Not so objectionable as canned
meat. Salmon and sardines are rich in protein.
Canned codfish balls save a great deal of time in
preparation, and are sometimes welcome when you
have no potatoes for the real thing. But go light:
these things are only for a change now and then,
or for emergency use in bad weather.
Eggs. — To vary the camp bill of fare, eggs are
simply invaluable, not only by themselves, but as
ingredients in cooking. Look at the cook's time-
table at the end of this volume and observe how
many of the best dishes call for eggs in making them
up.
When means of transportation permit, fresh eggs
may be carried to advantage. A hand crate holding
\:i dozen weighs about 24 pounds, filled.
E^gs can be packed along in winter without dai?-

PROVISIONS 189
ger of breakage by carrying them frozen. Do not
try to boil a frozen egg: peel it as you would a hard-
boiled one, and then fry or poach.
Totest an egg for freshness, drop it into cold
water; if it sinks quickly it is fresh, if it stands on
end it is doubtful, if it floats it is surely bad.
To preserve eggs, rub them all over with vaseline,
being careful that no particle of shell is uncoated.
They will keep good much longer than if treated
with lime water, salt, paraffine, water-glass or any
of the other common expedients.
On hard trips it is impracticable to carry eggs in
the shell. Some campers break fresh eggs and pack
them in friction-top cans. The yolks soon break,
and they will keep but a short time. A good brand
of desiccated eggs is the solution of this problem.
It does away with all risk of breaking and spoiling,
and reduces bulk and weight very much, as will be
seen below.
Desiccated eggs vary a great deal in quality ac-
cording to material and process emplo3\"d. Con-
demned storage eggs have been used by unscrupulous
manufacturers, and so, it is said, have the eggs of
sea-fowl. I have tried some brands that wêre un-
eatable by themselves, nor did they improve any
dish I combined them with. On the other hand, I
have had five or six years' experience with evapo-
rated eggs made by an Iowa firm which make ex-
cellent omelettes and scrambled eggs and are quite
equal to fresh ones in bakestuffs and for various
other culinary purposes. They are made from
fresh hens' eggs {ivhole, but with sometimes more
yolk added) by a strictly sanitary process. i-lb. A
can, equal to about 3 dozen fresh eggs, measures
6x3x3 inches and weighs i lb. 5 oz. gross. It
costs little more than fresh eggs, and the powder
will never spoil if kept dry. Of course, it cannot
be used as boiled, or poached eggs.
fried, For
powder must soak about an hour
omelettes, etc., the
in cold or lukewarm water before using; it can be
used dry in mixing dough. Thanks to this inven*
tion, the camp flapjack need no longer be a culinary
horror.
Desiccatefl eggs made of the yolks only are merely
useful as ingredients in cooking.
Milk. —
Sweetened condensed milk (the " salve
"
of the lumberjacks) is distasteful to most people-

Plain evaporated milk is the thing to carry —
and
don't leave it out if you can practicably tote it. The
notion that this is a " baby food," to be scorned by
real woodsmen, is nothing but a foolish conceit.
Ftw things pay better for their transportation. It
will be allowed that Admiral Peary knows some-
thing about food values. Here is what he says in
The North Pole: "The essentials, and the only es-
sentials, needed in a serious arctic sledge journey, no
matter what the season, the temperature, or the
duration of the journey —
whether one month or
«ix — are four: pemmican, tea, ship's biscuit, con-
densed milk. . . The standard daily ration for
.
work on the final sledge journey toward the Pole

on all expeditions has been as follows: i lb. pem-
mican, I lb. ship's biscuit, 4 oz. condensed milk,
3/2 compressed tea."
oz.
Milk, either evaporated or powdered. Is a very
important ingredient in camp cookery. Look again
at the cook's time-table previously mentioned.
Years ago I used to get an excellent powdered
milk ^rom a New York outfitter. It dissolved
readily, was quite creamy rich, and had none of the
scalded taste that one notices in most brands of
evaporated milk. Then it went out of the market,
and I have looked for it in vain. It was made of
whole milk, retaining the butter fat. That was
why it was rich, and that is why it was not a com-
mercial success, for it would not keep well in stor-

age —
the fatty part would turn rancid, or at least
grow stale.
do not know of any but skim milk powder?
I
now on sale, excepting certain high-priced ones sole!
as food for infants or invalids, and none of these
has the fresh milk flavor of the kind I got from the
PROVISIONS 191
outfitter. However, skim milk powder is useful in

cooking, and I would carry it where evaporated milk
would be too heavy.
Butter. —This is another '* soft " thing that pays
its freight. Look up its nutritive value in the table
already given.
There is a wêstern firm that puts up very good
butter hermetically sealed in 2-lb. cans. It will

.keep indefinitely.
For ordinary trips it suffices to pack butter firmly
into pry-up tin canswhich have been sterilized by
thorough scalding and then cooled in a perfectly
clean place. Keep it in a spring or in cold running
water (hung in a net, or weighted with a rock)
whenever you can. When traveling, wrap the cold
can in atowel or other insulating material.
If I had to cut out either lard or butter, I would
keep the butter. It serves all the purposes of lard
in cooking, is wholesomer, and, beyond that, it is
the most concentrated source of energy that one can
use with impunity.
Cheese. —Cheese has nearly twice the tuel value
of a porterhouse steak of equal wêight, and it con-
tains a fourth more protein. It is popularly sup-
posed to be hard to digest, but in reality is not so,
if used in moderation. The best kind for campers
is potted cheese, or cream or
*'
snappy " cheese put
up in tin foil. If not so protected from air it soon
dries out and grows stale. A
tin of imported
Camembert wîll be a pleasant surprise on some oc-
casion.
Bread, Biscuits. —
It is well to carry enough yeast
bread for two or three days, until the game country
is reached and camp routine is established. To kee;
it fresh, each loaf must be sealed up in VNâxed papti
or parchment paper (the latter is best, because it is

tough, wâterproof, grease-proof). Bread freezes
easily; for cold-weather luncheons carry toasted
bread.
Hardtack (pilot bread, ship biscuit) can be rec-
ommended only for such trips or cruises as do not
permit baking. It is a cracker prepared of plaiC'
flour and water, not even salted, and kiln-dried to a
chip, so as to keep indefinitely, its only enemies
being weevils. Get the coarsest grade. To make
hardtack palatable, toast it until crisp, or soak in
hot coffee and butter it, or at least salt it.
Swedish hardtack, made of whole rye flour, is
good for a change.
Plasmon biscuit, imported from England, is the
most nutritious breadstuff I have ever used. It is
a round cracker, firm but not hard, of good flavor,
containing a large percentage of the protein of milk,
six of the small biscuits holding as much proteid as
a quarter of a pound of beef. Plasmon will be dis-
cussed in Volume II, under Emergency Rations.
Flour. —Graham and entire-wheat flours contain
more protein than patent flour, but this is offset by
the fact that it is not so digestible as the protein of
standard flour. Practically there is little or no dif-
ference between them in the amount of protein as-
similated. The same seems to be true of their
mineral ingredients.
Many campers depend a good deal on self-raising
flour because it saves a little trouble in mixing.
But such flour is easily spoiled by dampness, it does
not make as good biscuit or flapjacks as one can turn
out in camp by doing his own mixing, and it will
not do for thickening, dredging, etc.
Flour and meal should be sifted before starting
on an expedition there will be no sieve in camp.
:
Baking Powder. —
Get the best, made with pure
cream of tartar. It costs more than the alum pow-
ders, and does not go so far, bulk for bulk but it ;
is much kinder to the stomach. Baking soda will

not be needed on short trips, but is required for
longer ones, in making sour-dough, as a steady diet
of baking-powder bread or biscuit will ruin the
stomach, if persisted in for a considerable time.
Soda also is useful medicinally.
Corn Meal. — Some like some prefer
yellow,
white. y\\t flavor of freshly ground meal is best,
"
;
PROVISIONS 193
but the ordinary granulated meal of commerce keeps
better, because it has been kiln-dried. Corn meal
should not be used as the leading breadstuff, for
reasons already given, but johnnycake, corn pan-
cakes, and mush, are a welcome change from hot
wheat bread or biscuit, and the average novice at
cooking may succeed better with them. The meal
Is useful to roll fish in, before frying.
Breakfast Cereals. —
These according to taste, and
for variety sake. Plain cereals, particularly oat
meal, require long cooking, either in a double boiler
or with constant stirring, to make them digestible
and then there is a messy pot to clean up. They
do more harm than good to campers who hurry
their cooking. So it is best to buy the partially
cooked cereals that take only a few minutes to pre-
pare. Otherwise the " patent breakfast foods
have no more nutritive quality than plain grain;
some of them not so much. The notion that bran
has remarkable food value is a delusion: it actually
makes the protein of the grain less digestible. As
for mineral matter, to " build up bone and teeth and
brawn," there is enough of It in almost any mixed
diet, without swallowing a lot of crude fiber.
Rice, although not very appetising by Itself, com-
bines so well in stews or the like, and goes so well
in pudding, that It deserves a place in the commis-
sariat.
Macaroni, etc. — The various paste (pas-tay), a*
the Italians call them, take the place of bread, may
be cooked In many ways and are
to lend variety,
especially good in soups, which otherwise would
have little nourishing power. Spaghetti, vermicelli
and noodles, all are good In their way. Break
macaroni into Inch pieces, and pack so that Insects
cannot get Into it. It is more wholesome than flap-
jacks, and it " sticks to the ribs."
Sweets. —
Sugar Is stored-up energ}^, and Is as-
similated more quickly than any other food. Men
/n the open soon get to craving sweets„
The ''
substitute " variously known as saccharin.
saxin, crystallose, is no substitute at all, save in mere
sweetening power (in this respect one ounce of
it
equals about eighteen pounds of sugar). This drug,

which is derived from coal tar, has medicinal quali-
ties and injures one's health if persistently taken.
It has none of the nutritive value of sugar, and
supplies no energy v/hatever. Its use in food prod-
ucts is forbidden under the Federal pure-food law.
Maple sugar is always welcome. Get the soft
kind that can be spread on bread for luncheons.
Sirup is easily made from it in camp by simply
bringing it to a boil with the necessary amount of
water. Ready-made sirup is mean to pack around.
Sweet chocolate (not too sweet) has remarkable
sustaining power. It will be mentioned further in
Volume II, under Emergency Rations.
When practicable, take along some jam and mar-
malade. The commissaries of the British army were
wise when they gave jam an honorable place
in Tommy Atkins' field ration. Yes: jam for sol-
diers in time ot war. So many ounces of it. sub-
stituted, mind you, for so many ounces of the porky,
porky, porky, that has ne'er a streak of lean. So,
a little currant jelly with your duck or venison is
worth breaking all rules for. Such conserves can
be repacked by the buyer in pry-up cans that have
been sterilized as recommended under the heading
Butter.
Fresh Vegetables. —
The only ones worth taking
along are potatoes and onions. Choose potatoes
with small eyes and of uniform medium size, even
if you have to buy half a bushel to sort out a peck.
They are very heavy and bulky in proportion to

their food value; so you cannot afford to be bur-
dened with any but the best. Cereals and beanf
take the place of potatoes when you go light.
Fresh onions are almost indispensable for season-
ing soups, stews, etc. A
few of them can be taken
along almost anywhere. I generally carry at least
one, even on a walking trip. Onions are good for
the suddenly overtaxed system, relieve the inordinate
PROVISIONS 195
thirst that one experiences the first da}^ or two,

and assist excretion. Freezing does not spoil
onions if they are kept frozen until used.
Beans. —A
prime factor in cold weather camp-
ing. Take a long time to cook ("soak all day
and cook all night" is the rule). Cannot be
cooked done at altitudes offive thousand êet and
upward. Large varieties cook quickest, but the
small white navy beans are best for baking. Pick
them over before packing, as there is much waste.
Split Peas. — Used chiefly in making a thick,
nourishing soup.
Dehydrated Vegetables. — Much of tht flavor
of fresh vegetables is lost when the juice is ex-
pressed or evaporated, but all of their nutriment
is retained and enough of the flavor for them to
serve as fair substitutes when fresh vegetables can-
not be carried. They help out a camp stew, and
may even be served as side dishes if one has but-
ter\ and milk to season them. Generally they re-
quire soaking (which can be done overnight) then ;
they are to be boiled slowly until tender, taking

about as much time as fresh vegetables. If cook-
ing is hurried they will be woody and tasteless.
Dehydrated vegetables are very portable, keep in
any climate, and it is well to carry some on trips
far from civilization.
Canned Vegetables. —
In our table of food values
it will be noticed that the least nourishing article
for its weight and bulk is a can of tomatoes. Yet
these " airtights " are great favorites with outdoors-
men, especially in the West and South, where fre-
quently they are eaten raw out of the can. It is
not so much their flavor as their acid that is grate-
ful to a stomach overtaxed with fat or canned
meat and hot bread three times a day. If wanted
only as an adjuvant to soups, stews, rice, macaroni,
etc., the more concentrated tomato puree will serve
very^ wêll.
Canned corn (better still, '' kornlet," which is
the concentrated milk of sweet corn) Is quite
nourishing, and everybod}^ likes it.
A few cans of baked beans {without tomato
sauce) will be handy in The B. &
wet weather.
M. ^-Ib. cans are convenient for a lone camper
or for two going light.
Nuts. —A handful each of shelled nuts and
raisins, with a cake of sweet chocolate, will carry
a man far on the trail, or when he has lost it. The
kernels of butternuts and hickory nuts have the
highest fuel value of our native species; peanuts
and almonds are very rich in protein Brazil nuts,
;
filberts, and pecans, in fat. Peanut butter is a

concentrated food that goes well in sandwiches.
One can easily make nut butter of any kind (ex-
cept almonds or Brazil nuts) for himself by using
the nut grinder that comes with a kitchen food-
chopper, and can add ground dates, ground pop-
corn, or whatever he likes; but such preparations
will soon grow rancid if not sealed air-tight. Nut
butter is more digestible than kernels unless the
latter are thoroughly chewed.
Fruits. — All fruits are very deficient in protein
and (except olives) in fat, but dried fruit is rich
in Fruit acid (that of prunes, dried
carbohydrates.
apricots, and dehydrated cranberries, when fresh
fruit cannot be carried) is a good corrective of a
too fatty and starchy or sugary diet, and a pre-
ventive of scurvy. Most fruits are laxative, and
for that reason, none other, a good proportion
if
-of dried fruit should be Included In the ration, no
matter how light one travels; otherwise one is

likely to suffer from constipation when he changes
" from town grub to trail grub."
Among canned fruits, those that go farthest are
pineapples and blackberries.
Excellent jelly can be made in camp from dried
apples (see recipe in Chapter XXII).
There is much nourishment in dates, figs (those
dried round are better than layer figs) and raisinsc
PROVISIONS 197
Pitted dates are best for light outfits. And do not
despise the humble prune buy the best grade in the
;
market (unknown to landladies) and soak overnight

before stewing; it will be a revelation. Take a va-
riety of dried fruits, and mix them in different com-
binations, sweet and tart, so as not to have the same
sauce twice in succession; then you wîll learn that
dried fruits are by no means a poor substitute for
fresh or canned ones.
In hot weather I carry a few lemons whenever
practicable. Limes are more compact and better
medicinally, but they do not keep well. Lime juice
in bottles is excellent, if you can carry it.
Citric acid crystals may

be used in lieu of lemons
when going light, but the flavor is not so good as
that of lemonade powder that one can put up for
himself. The process is described by A. W. Bar-
nard: ''Squeeze out the lemons and sift into the
clear juice four to six spoonfuls of sugar to a lemon;
let stand a few days if the weather is dry, or a
week if wet, till it is dried up, then pulverize and
put up into capsules." Gelatin capsules of any size,
from i-oz. down, can be procured at a drugstore.
They are convenient to carry small quantities of
spices,flavorings, medicines, etc., on a hike.
Vinegar and pickles are suitable only for fixed
camps or easy cruises.
Fritures.
*'
— Lard is less wholesome than olive
oil, or Crisco," or the other preparations of vege-
table fat. Crisco can be heated to a higher temper-
ature than lard without burning, thus ensuring the
"surprise" (see Chapter XVI), which prevents
getting a fried article sodden with grease it does ;
as wxU as lard for shortening; and it can be used

repeatedly without transmitting the flavor of one
dish to the next one. Olive oil is superior as a
friture, especially for fish, but expensive.
Beverages. —^The best coffee can only be made
from freshly roasted berries. Have it roasted and
ground the day before you start, and put up in
small air-tight canisters. It loses strength rapidly
after a tin has been opened. If jou are a con-
noisseur you will never be tempted more than once
by any condensed coffee or substitute.
Tea is a better pick-me-up than coffee or liquor.
Even if you don't use it at home, take along on
your camping trip enough for midday meals. Tea
tabloids are not bad, but I advise using the real
thing. On a hike, with no tea-ball, I tie up enough
for each pint in a bit of washed cheesecloth, loosely,
leaving enough string attached whereby to whisk
it out after exactly four minutes' steeping.
However it may be with you at home, leading

a sedentary life, you probably will find that tea
and coffee do you a world of good when working
heartily out-of-doors.
There but old cam-
are exceptions, to be sure ;
paigners generally will agree with Dr. Hutchinson

when, having discussed the necessary solids for a
soldier's ration, he says this:
"But is even this dietetic trinity of bread, beef and su-

^•âr, with greens and dessert on the side, sufficient? The
results of a hundred campaigns have shown that it is not.
Man not merely a stomach and muscles
is —
he is also a
bundle of nerves; and they require their share of pabulum.
In the early days ^he nerve-steadier in the soldier's diet
used to be supplied in the form of grog, beer, wine, whisky;
^nd up to about one hundred years ago alcohol in some
form was considered to be an absolutely indispensable part
of the army ration.
" Gradually, however, and by bitter experience, it was
realized that alcohol's way of steadying and supporting
the nerves was to narcotize them, which practically means
poison them; that it gave no nourishment to the body
and, instead of improving the digestion and utilization of
food, really hindered and interfered with them. Man
must have something to drink as well as to eat; but what
ân be found as a substitute?
" About two centuries ago two new planets swam into
our human ken above the dietetic horizon —
tea and cof-
fee. They were looked on with great suspicion at first,
partly because they were attractive and partly because
ihey were new. They were denounced by the Puritan be-
PROVISIONS 199
cause they were pleasant, and by the doctor because they
were not in the pharmacopoeia; but, in spite of bitter oppo-
sition, they won their way.
" It is doubtful whether any addition to the comfort of
civilized man within the last two hundred years in the
realm of dietetics can be mentioned that equals them.
Certainly, if we take into consideration the third new ar-
ticle of food, which came in and still goes down with them
— sugar — it would be impossible to match them with any-
thing of equal value,"
Cocoa is not only a drink but a food. It is

best for the evening meal, because it makes one
sleepy, whereas tea and coffee have the opposite
effect.
Get the soluble kind, if jôu want it quickly pre-
pared.
Condiments. —
Do not leave out a small assort-
ment of condiments wherewith to vary the taste
of common articles and serve a new sauce or gravy
or pudding now and then.
Salt is best carried in a wôoden box. The
amount used in cooking and at table is small, but
if pelts are to be preserved or game shipped out,
considerably more will be needed.

White pepper is better than black. Some Cay^
enne or Chili should also be taken. Red pepper if
not only a good stomachic, but also is fme for a
chill (made into a tea with hot water and sugar).
Among condiments I class beef extract, bouillon
cubes or capsules, and the like. They are of no
use as food, except to stimulate a feeble stomach
or furnish a spurt of energy, but invaluable for
flavoring camp-made soups and stews when you
are far away from beef. The powder called
Oystero yields an oyster flavor.
When one is not going into a game country, it
IS worth while to carn^ Worcestershire sauce and
pure tomato catchup, to relieve the monotony of

cured and canned meats or of too much fish.
Mustard useful not only at table but for medi-
is
cinal purposes ; cloves, not only for its more obvious

purposes, but to stick in an onion for a stew, and
perchance for a toothache.
Celery and parsley can now be had in dehydrated
form. Some sage may be needed for stuffing.
If you aim at cake-making and puddings, ginger
and cinnamon may be required. Curry powder is
relished by many; its harshness may be tempered
with sweet fruits or sugar.
Finally, a half-pint of brandy is worth its weight,
for brandy-sauce —
but keep it where it can't be
filched, or somebody will invent a bellyache instanter.
On short tripSv salt and pepper will meet all
requirements.
Ration Lists. —A
ration list showing how much
food of each kind is required, per man and per
week, cannot be figured out satisfactorily unless one
knows where the party is going, at what season of
the year, how the stuff is to be carried, whether
there is to be good chance of game or fish, and some-
thing about the men's personal tastes. Still, I may
offer some suggestions.

Our army garrison often is used as a
ration
guide. Introducing the permissible substitutions in
ratios given below, it works out as follows: — -
U. S. ARMY GARRISON RATIONS

rOR ONE MAN ONE WEEK
Meats, Etc.:
Lbs. Oz.
{^2 time) Fresh meats, @ 20
oz. per day 4 6
(^) Cured or canned, @ 12 oz. 2 10
Lard, @ 0.64 oz 4^
Milk, evaporated, @ 0.5 oz,.. .. 3^2
Butter, @0,5 oz 3
7 lbs. ii]/2 oz.

Bread, Etc.:
Lbs. Oz.
(^) Hard bread, @ 16 oz i 12
(f^) Flour, meal, @ 18 oz.... 5 14^
Baking powder, @ oz. per
i lb.
flour 6
[Yz] Rice, hominy, @ i.6 oz 5^^
— 8 lbs. 6 02,
.
PROVISIC^ 20^
Vegetables:
{]/2) Beans, @ 2.4 oz

Potatoes, canned tomatoes, etc
@ 20 oz
Prunes, dried apples or peaches, O, ^VJk ^^''*^'

jam, (a)i.28oz.
Vinegar, @
0.16 gill
9
4^^ ''VVV^
i3>4 ftit
Sugar, Etc.:
Lbs. Oz.
Sugar, @ 3.2 oz . . 1 6J/2
Sirup, @ 0.32 gill 10
— 2 lbs. 5^ oz
Beverages:
Lbs. Oz.
i%) CoflFee, @ 1.12 oz 5^
(i/J) Tea, @ 0.32 oz 2/4
— 6 oz.
Condiments:
Lbs. Oz.
Salt, @ 0.64 oz 4V2
Pepper, @ 0.04 oz 34
Spices, @ 0.014 oz YiQ
Flavoring extracts, @ 0.028 oz. — .
%
5 oz.
One man one week 28 lbs. 15 oz.

One man one day 4 lbs. 2 oz.
This Is a very liberal ration, but would be so

monotonous, if strictly adhered to, that much of
it would be unused. Accordingly the soldier's
mess is allowed to commute its surplus of staples
for luxuries inwhich the ration is deficient.
For some years it was my practice to weigh per-
sonally, and note down at the time, the amount
of provisions taken on my camping tours, and often
I recorded the quantities left over at the end of
the trip. I have also collected many ration lists
compiled by practical woodsmen, and have spent

considerable time in studying and comparing them.
These varied remarkably, not so much in aggre-
gate weights as in the proportions of this and that
Still, a few general principles have been worked
out:
1. When
going as light as practicable, and taking
the most concentrated (water-free) foods that will
digest properly and sustain a man at hard work
in the open air, the ration should not be cut down
below 2j4 pounds (a ration being one man's food
for one day). This is the minimum for moun-
taineering, arctic exploration, and wherever equip-
ment must be " pared to the bone," This sort of
provisioning will be considered in Volume II.
2. People leading an easy life in summer camp
do not require so much actual nutriment as those
engaged hard travel, big game hunting, and
in
the like; but they should have plenty of fruits
and vegetables, and these things are heavy and
bulky.
3. Men working hard in the open, and exposed
to the vicissitudes of wilderness life, need a diet
rich in protein, fats (especially in cold weather),
and sweets. This may not agree with theories of
but it
dieticians, is the experience of millions of
campaigners who know what their work demands.
A low-proteid diet may be good for men leading
soft lives,and for an occasional freak outdoorsman,
but try it on an army in the field, or on a crew of
lumberjacks, and you will face stark mutiny.
As a basis upon which the supplies for a party
may be calculated, I offer, in the following table,
twô ration lists, called
'*
light " and " heavy," for
one man, one week. The first figures out about
4,900 calories, and the second about 5,300 calories,
per man, per day. Either of these is sufficient for
a man engaged in hard outdoor work; so the terms
" light " and '^ heavy " do not refer to food values
but to actual weights, the first being 3 pounds, and

the second a bit over 5 pounds, per man, per day.
The difference is due chiefly to canned goods and
fresh vegetables.
Observe that both of these lists include fresh
.
PROVISIONS 203
meat. It assumed that the travelers will go
Is
either where they can supply this with game killed

or where they can buy fresh meat as It Is needed.
Otherwise, substitute two-thirds Its weight In cured
meat.
'*
For men not undergoing great strain, the **
light
ration may be reduced, say to 2^ pounds a day-
CRUISER'S AND CAMPER'S RATIONS
FOR ONE MAN ONE WEEK
(Weights are net, not including tins, bags, wrappers.)
LIGHT. HEAVY.
Meats, Etc.: Lbs. Oz Lbs. Oz.
Fresh meat 3
Bacon 3
Canned meat, poultry, fish .
4
Cured fish 4
Canned soups 10 (i can)
Dried soups 2
Fresh eggs 8 (i doz.)
Dried eggs 4
Butter 8
Cheese 4 4
Crisco 4 4
Evaporated milk 6 12
7 4 9 6
Bread, Etc.: Lbs. Oz, Lbs. Oz.

Biscuits (crackers) or
fresh bread i
Wheat flour 4
Corn meal i
Baking powder
Macaroni, etc
Rice ,
Other cereal
7 6 7 6
Vegetables: Lbs. Oz. Lbs. Oz.

Fresh potatoes 5
Fresh onions
Canned tomatoes . ,(i can)
Canned corn 10 iYz can)
Dried beans
Dehydrated vegetables . .
T-T-
. .

LIGHT. HEAVY.
Fruits, Acids, Nuts: Lbs. Oz. Lbs. Oz.
Fresh lemons I (^doz.)
Lemonade capsules
Canned fruits (2 cans)
Dried apples, apricots,
prunes, cranberries .... 12
Raisins, dates, figs
Pickles (sour)
Shelled nuts, or nut butter
14 6
Siveets: Lbs. Oz. Lbs. Oz.

Sugar (granulated) 14
Maple sugar (soft) 8 8
Chocolate (medium sweet) . . 12 8
Jam, jelly, marmalade 12
2 2 2 lO
Beverages: Lbs. Oz. Lbs. Oz,

Coffee .. 8
Tea .... 1
Condiments: Lbs. Oz. Lbs. Oz.

*Salt 4 4
White pepper . Va
Red pepper ....
Mustard (mixed]
Celery, parsley (dehy-
drated) Vs y%
Bouillon cubes
Nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon,
ginger, curry powder. .
% Va
Worcestershire sauce
Tomato catsup
n
One man one week 21 35
One man one day 3 5
If butter 16 not carried, its weight in bacon should

be added to the list; similarly other substitutions
can be made to suit taste and circumstances.
The second list provides enough eggs and milk
* Not allowing for preparing skins and salting horses.
PROVISIONS -
205
to allow their use liberally in cooking. Its ration
is of about the same weight as that of the U. S.
Navy.
Packing Food. — Meat of any kind will quickly
mould or spoil if packed
tins from w^hich air
in
is not exhausted. Wrap
your bacon, pork, etc.,
in parchment paper, which is grease-proof (you
can buy it from a mail-order house for small —
quantities get parchment paper ice blankets and
cut to suit), then enclose the meat in loose cheese-
cloth bags that can be hung up in camp, secure from
insects.
Flour should not be carried in the original sacks:
they wet through or absorb moisture from the air,
snag easily, and burst under the strain of a lash-
rope. Pack your flower, cereals, vegetables, dried
fruits, etc., in the round-bottomed paraflSned bags
sold by outfitters (various sizes, down), from 10 lbs.
which are damp-proof and have the further merit
of standing up on their bottoms instead of always
falling over. Put a tag on each bag and label
it in ink. These small bags may then be stowed
in 9-inchwaterproof canvas provision bags (see
outfitter's but in that case the thing
catalogues),
you want is generally at the bottom. A much
handier pack for horse or canoe is the side-opening
one shown in Fig. 10 1.
Butter, lard, ground coffee, tea, sugar, jam,
m.atches, go in pn-up tin cans, sold by outfitters
(small quantities in mailing tubes), or in common
capped tins with tops secured by surgeon's plaster.
Get pepper and spices in shaker-top cans, or, if you
carry common shakers, cover tops with cloth and
snap stout rubber bands around them.
Salt, as it draws moisture, is best carried in a
wooden box or in mailing tubes.
Often it is well to carry separately enough food
to last the party between the jumping-off place and
the main camp site, as it saves the bother of break-
ing bulk en route.
2o6 CA:\IPIiNG and WOODCRAFl'
When transportation is easy it pays to pack tlie
bread, bags of flour, etc., in a tin wash-boiler of
two, which are wrapped in burlaps and crated.
These make capital grub boxes in camp, securing
their contents from wet, insects and rodents. Ants
in summer and mice at all times are downright
pests of the woods, to say nothing of the wily coon,
the predatory mink, the inquisitive skunk, and the
fretful porcupine. The boilers are useful, too, on
many occasions, to catch rain-water, boil clothes,
waterproof and dye tents, and so forth. After all
these things have been done in them they are prop-
erly seasoned for cooking a burgoo.
Camp chests are very convenient when it is
practicable to carry them. In fixed camp an old
trunk will do but if you are traveling from place
;
to place, the boxes should be small, weighing not

over fifty or sixty pounds each when packed, so that
one man can easily handle them unassisted. If they
are specially made, Cottonwood is the best material
(if thoroughly seasoned boards can be had other- —
wise it warps abominably). It is the strongest and
toughest wood for its weight that we have, and
will not splinter. For the ends and lids of small
chests, ^-inch stuf¥ is thick enough, and ^-inch
for the sides, bottoms and trays. The bottom
should have a pair of ^/^-inch cleats for risers and
the top a similar pair to keep it from \A'arping, un-
less the chests are to go on pack animals. Strap-
hinges and hasp, a brass padlock and broad leather
end-straps (not drop-handles) should be provided,
and the chest painted.
The best size is 24x18x9 inches, this being
convenient for and pack-saddles. A pine
canoes
grocery box of this size, with ^-inch ends and
^-inch sides, top, and bottom, weighs only lO
pounds, and will answer the purpose very well.
Screw a wooden handle on each end, say 5x2
inches, with a hand-hold gouged out of the under
side
PROVISIONS 207
Chests intended to be used as hanging cupboard?
in camp should have shelf boards packed in them,
and a bread board for rolling out biscuit dough and
pastry. One box should be selected with a view
to using it as a camp refrigerator or spring box
(see Chapter XII). For a trip by wagon a regu-
lar " chuck box " may be built, with a drop front
for serving table (held by light chains when open).
This box is carried upright at the rear end of the
wagon a la cow outfit.
When cruising where there are no portages it
saves lots of time and bother if you build before-
hand a light mess chest partitioned to hold utensils
and all the food needed for, say, a week. This
may be fitted with detachable legs, and the lid
so fitted that it is supported level when opened,
forming a table.
A Last Look Around. — Check
off every article
in the outfit as stowed, and keep the inventory
it is
for future reference Then note what is left over

at the end of the trip. This will help in outfitting
for the next season.
There are several things to be looked after in
good season before starting on a camping trip. If
your shoes are new, oil them and break them in.
If your rifle is new, do not dream of carrying it
into the wilderness until you have " sighted it up,"
testing the elevations at various ranges, and mak-
ing sure that the sights are accurately aligned. If
your fishing tackle is old, overhaul and test it
thoroughly. If you have a hollow tooth, get it
filled. Pare your nails closely, or they will soon
be badly broken. Get your hair cropped short.
See that you have a good supply of small change
^vhen you start. Don't carry off jôur bunch of
keys. Be on hand early at the station and see to
it personally that your humble but precious duffel
all gets aboard.
And now, bon voyage!
CHAPTER XII
CAMP MAKING
As a rule, good camp sites are not found along
the beaten road. Of water is the prime
course,
essential, and in a country where water is scarce,
you will stop at an old camping ground other- ;
wise it is best to avoid such a place: for one thing,

you don't want to be bothered with interlopers,
and for another, the previous occupants will have
stripped the neighborhood of good kindling and
downwood, and may have left a legacy of rub-
bish and fleas.
A pleasant stopping-place is seldom far to seek
in a hilly country that is well wooded. There are
exceptions, as in the Ozarks, where the rock is a
porous limestone, the drainage mostly is under-
ground, and there are no brooks, nor are springs
as common as one would expect, though when you
do strike one it is a big one. Here a traveler must
depend for water chiefly on the creeks and rivers,
which may be miles apart.
In a level region, whether it be open plain or
timbered bottom land, good water and a high and
dry site may be hard to find.
In any case, when men are journeying through
a wild country that is strange to them, they should
begin at least two hours before sunset to keep a
bright lookout for a good place on which to spend
the night, and when such is found they had better
accept it at once than run the risk of *' murdering
a night farther on, wherever the powers of dark-
'
ness may force them to stop.

Camp Sites. — The essentials of a good camp
?ite are these:
208
CAMP MAKING 209
1. Pure water.
2. Wood
that burns well. In cold weather there
should be either an abundance of sound downwood
or some standing hardwood trees that are not too
big for easy felling.
3. An open spot, level enough for the tent and
campfire, but elevated its above
surroundings so
as to have good natural drainage. It must be well
above any chance overflow from the sudden rise
of a neighboring stream. Observe the previous
flood marks.
4. Grass or browse for the horses (if there are
any) and bedding for the men.
5. Straight poles for the tent, or trees convenient
for attaching the ridge rope.
6. Security against the spread of fire.
7. Exposure to direct sunlight during a part of

the day, especially during the early morning hours.
8. In summer, exposure to whatever breezes may
blow^; in cold weather, protection against the pre-
vailing wind.
9. Privacy.
Water, wood, and good drainage may be all you
need for a " one-night stand," but the other points,
too, should be considered when selecting the site for
a fixed camp.
—
Water. Be particularly careful about thd
purity of your water supply. You come, let us say,
to a mountain brook, that issues from thick forest.
It ripples over clean rocks, it bubbles with air, it is
clear as crystal, and cool to your thirsty throat.

*'
Surely that is good water." But do you know
where it comes from? Every mountain cabin is
built close to a spring-branch. Somewhere up that
brook there may be a clearing; in that clearing, a
house ; in that house, a case of dysentery or typhoid
fever. I have known several cases of infection fron>
just such a source. It is not true that running wate/

purifies itself.
When one must use well-water let him note the
2IO CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
surrounding drainage. If the well is near a stable
or outhouse, or if dishwater is thrown near it, let
it alone. A
well in sandy soil is more or less fil-
tered by nature, but rocky or clayey earth may con-
duct disease germs a considerable distance under-
ground. Never drink from the well of an aban-
doned farm: there is no telling what may have
fallen into it.
A spring issuing from the living rock is worthy

of confidence. Even if it be but a trickle you can
scoop out a basin to receive it that soon will clear
itself.
Sometimes a subaqueous spring may be found near

the margin of a lake or river by paddling close in-
shore and trailing your hand in the water. When
a cold spot is noted, go ashore and dig a few feet
back from the water's edge. I have found such
spring exits in the Mississippi some distance from
the bank, and, by weighting a canteen, vying a string
to it and another to the stopper, have brought up
cool water from the river bed.
Disease germs are of animal, not vegetable, origin.
Still waters are not necessarily unwholesome, even
though there be rotting vegetation in them: the
water of cedar and cypress swamps is good to drink,
'.vherever there is a deep pool of it, unless polluted
from some outside source. Lake water is safe if no
settlements are on its border; but even so large a
body as Lake Champlain has been condemned by
state boards of health because of the sewage that
runs into it.
When a stream is in flood it is likely to be con-
taminated by decayed animal matter.
Alkaline Water. — When traveling in an alkali
:ountry, carry some vinegar or limes or lemons, or
(better) a glass-stoppered bottle of hydrochloric
icid. One teaspoonful of hydrochloric (muriatic)
neutralizes about a gallon of water, and if there
should be a little excess it will do no harm, but
rather assist digestion. In default of acid, you may
;
CAMP MAKING 211

add a little Jamaica ginger and sugar to the water,
making a weak ginger tea.
Muddy Water. —
I used to clarify Mississippi
water by stirring cornmeal in it and letting it settle,
or by stirring a lump of alum in it until the mud
began to precipitate, and then decanting the clear
water. Lacking these, one can take a good hand-
ful of grass, tie it roughly in the form of a cone six
or eight inches high, invert it, pour water slowly into
the grass, and a runnel of comparatively clear water
will trickle down through the small end.
The following simple method of purifying muddy
water is recommended by H. G. Kegley:
" Dip up what is needed, place it in such vessels as are
available, and treat it to condensed milk, in the proportion
of two tablespoonfuls of milk to five gallons of water. The
sediment settles in a very short time. Next morning, if you
desire to carry some of the water with you through the day,
pour it from the settlings, and then boil the water and skim
it. In that way the cream and any possibility of sourness
will be removed. Water thus clarified remains palatable
so long as it lasts."
Stagnant Water. —A traveler may be reduced to

the extremity of using stagnant or even putrid water
but this should never be done without first boiling
it. Some charred wood from the camp fire should
be boiled with the water; then skim off the scum,
strain, and set the water aside to cool. Boiling
sterilizes, and charcoal deodorizes.
I quote the following incident from Johnson's
Getting Gold. —
" I once rede forty-five miles with nearly beaten horses
to a native well, or rock hole, to find water, the next stage
being nearly fifty miles further. The well was found, but
the water in it was very bad for in it was the body of a
;
dead kangaroo, which had apparently been there for weeks.

The wretched horses, half frantic with thirst, did manage
to drink a few mouthfuls, but we could not. I filled our
largest billycan, holding about a gallon, slung it over the

fire and added, as the wood burnt down, charcoal, till th«
top Avas covered to a depth of two inches. With the char-
coal there was, of coursCa a little ash containing bi-car-
bonate of potassium. The effect was marvellous. So soon
as the horrible soup came to the boil, the impurities coag'
ulated, and after keeping it at boiling temperature for
about half an hour, it was removed from the fire, the
cinders skimmed out, and the water allowed to settle, which
it did very quickly. It was then decanted off into an
ordinary prospector's pan, and some used to make tea (the
flavor of which can be better imagined than described) ;
the remainder was allowed to stand all night, a few pieces

of charcoal being added. In the morning it was bright,
clear, and absolutely sweet."
Filters are not to be depended upon to purify

water. At they do not steril-
best they only clarify ;
ize it. Afilter, to be of any use, must be cleaned
out every da}^ or two, and the sand forming the up-
per layer must be thoroughly washed or replaced;
otherwise the filter itself becomes a breeding-place
for germs.
—
To Cool Water, Travelers in arid regions carry
water bags of heavy canvas or linen duck. These,
when filled, constantly ** sweat " or exude enough
moisture to cool the contents of the bag by evapora-
tion. Wet canteens do the same. A
covered pail
or other vessel can be used: wrap cloths around it,
keep them wet, and hang in a current of air.
Fuel. —In summer camping little firewood is
used, but in cold weather an abundance is required.
Some kinds of wood make fine fires, others are poor
fuel or worthless: they are classified in the next
chapter. In any case there should be plenty of
sound dead wood to cook with.
When traveling with a team where fuel is scarce,
make a practice of tossing into the wagon any good
chunks that you may find along the road.
—
Tent Ground. Avoid low ground. Seek an
open spot that is level enough for the purpose, but
one that has good natural drainage. Wherever you
may be, pitch your tent on a rise or slight slope in-
stead of in a depression where water will gather
if it rains. Don't trust a fair sky.
If you camp on the bank of a stream, be sure to
CAMP MAKING 213
get well above theflood-marks left by previous
freshets or overflows. Observe the more or less
continuous line of dead grass, leaves, twigs, mud,
and other flotsam or hurrah's-nests left in bushes
along the water-front.
Precautions as to elevation and drainage are
especially needful in those parts of our country that
are subject to cloudbursts. I have seen a ravine that
had been stone-dry for months fill fifteen feet deep,
in a few minutes, with a torrent that swept trees and
bowlders along with it; and it is quite common in
many parts of the West wide bottoms to be
for
flooded in a night. When I was a boy in Iowa, a
'*
mover " camped for the night on an island in Coon
River, near our place. He had a bag of gold coin,
but was out of rations. A sudden flood left him
marooned the next morning on a knoll scarce big
enough for his team and wagon. He subsisted for
a week, like his horses, on the inner bark of cotton-
wood, and when a rescue party found him he was
kicking his bag of gold over the few yards of dry
ground that were left of his domain.
Bottom lands, and deep woods where the sun
rarely penetrates, should be avoided, when prac-
ticable, for they are damp lairs at best, and in warm
weather they are infested with mosquitoes. Keep
away from thickets in summer they : are stifling and
" buggy."
A ravine or narrow valley between steep hills is a

trap for fog, and the cold, heavy air from the head
of the hollow pours down it at night, while an un-
dertow of warmer air drawing upward now and
then makes the smoke from one's camp-fire shift
most annoyingly. Besides a ravine gets too little
sunlight.
New the forest are unhealthy, for
clearings in
the sun gets in on plants that are intolerant of strong
light, they rot, and poisonous gases arise from their
decay, as well as from the recently disturbed soil.
If one is obliged to camp in a malarial region he
should not leave the camp-fire until the sun is up and
the fog dispelled.
Sandy beaches, and low, gravelly points, are likely
to swarm in summer with midges.
Sandy soil does not afford good holding-ground
for the tent pegs; neither does a loamy or clayey
soil after it gets soaked from rain. The best ground
is gravelly earth: holds well, and permits the
it
rapid filtering through of surface water. clay A

top-soil holds water and is soon trodden into sticky
mud after a rain.
Precautions Against Fire. — If the camp site
isstrewn with leaves, cut an evergreen branch, or,
with some other makeshift broom or rake, clear all
the ground of leaves, pile them in the bare spot,
and burn rhem, lest a spark set the woods afire. In
evergreen or cypress forests there is often a thick
scurf on the ground (dead needles, etc.) that is
very inflammable. Always scrape this away before
building a fire. In a dry forest carpet, or in a
punky log, fire may smoulder unnoticed for several
days; then, when a breeze fans it into flame, it may
start a conflagration. One cant be too careful
about fire in the woods. Never leave a camp fire
or a cooking fire to burn itself out. Drench it with
water, or smother it absolutely by stamping earth
upon it.
Neighborhood of Trees. — It is a common

blunder to pitch the tent directly under the " natural
shelter " of a big tree. This is pleasant enough at
midday, but makes the tent catch drip from dew and
keeps it from drying after a rain besides, it may ;
be positively dangerous. One of the first things

to do in choosing the tent site is to see that it is not
within reach of falling limbs. A
tree branch falling
forty or fifty feet, and striking a tent at night, is
something to be remembered If —
you survive.
Shun the neighborhood of tall trees that are shallow-
moored, and of those with brittle limbs (the aspens,
-
CAMP MAKING 215
poplars, Cottonwood, catalpa, butternut, yellow lo-

cust, silvermaple), and anj^ with unsound branches.
Dead trees are always unsafe. Every woodsmai?
has often known them to come thundering down
without the least warning when there was not sq
much as a zephyr astir. A
tree that leans toward
camp from a steep hillside hard by is a menace, and
so is any near-by tree with a hollow butt.
—
Trees and Lightning. I have never seen, noi
heard of, a beech tree that had been struck by light
ning, although beeches are plentiful on many battle-
scarred mountains where stricken trees of other
species can be noted by the score. Miss Keeler says
on this point: "
There was so firm a belief among
the Indians that a beech tree was proof against
lightning that on the approach of a thunder-storm
they took refuge under its branches with full assur-
ance of safety. . This popular belief has recently
. .
had scientific verification. general con-

. . . The
clusion from a series of experiments
is that trees
*
poor in fat like the oak, willow, poplar, maple,
'
elm and ash, oppose much less resistance to the elec-

tric current than trees rich in fat'
like the beech, '
chestnut, linden and birch."

In this connection I may note that there is no
truth in the old adage that " lightning does not
strike twice in the same place." At Takoma Park,
a suburb of Washington, on July 19, 19 15, a bolt of
lightning struck an oak tree standing in the garden
before the administration building of the Seventh
Day Adventists. After the storm had passed, sev-
eral people wênt out from the building to view the
damage done to the tree. Three of them lingered.
A second bolt, from a clear sky, struck the same
tree, killed two of the people under it, and knocked
the other unconscious.
Electricity follows not only the trunk of a tree but
also the drip that falls from it in a rain.
Shade. — In summerwell to camp where
it is
one's tent will be shaded from the afternoon sun.

2i6 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
as otherwise it will get very hot, but morning sun
should strike the tent fairly, to dry it, lest the can-
vas mildew and the interior get damp and musty.
The wetter the climate, and the thicker the sur-
rounding forest, the greater need of such exposure.
Mildew attacks leather first, then woolens, and cot-
tons last of all.
Exposure. — As a general rule,an easterly or

southeasterly frontage is not only to admit early
best,
sunlight and rouse you betimes, but also because, in
most regions, it is the quarter least given to high
winds and driving rains. Sudden and violent storms
usually come up out of the southwest. This is true
nearly everywhere: hence the sailor calls his tarp
hat a " sou-wester."
Other considerations may govern the case. In
not weather we want exposure to whatever cool
breezes may blow, and they are governed by local
features. Late in the season we will take advantage
of whatever natural windbreak we can find, such as
the edge of a forest, the lee of a cliff, of a large rock,
or of an evergreen thicket. This may make a dif-
ference of 10° 0/ 15° in temperature. A rock ab-
sorbs the sun's heat slowly all day and parts with it
slowly at night.
A grassy glade or meadow is colder than bare
earth, sand, or rock. The air on a knoll is con-
siderably warmer than that of flat land only a few
feet below it.
Privacy. — A camp should not be exposed to view
from a public road nor be in the track of picnickers,
idle countrymen, vagabonds, or other unwelcome
guests. One can save much annoyance by a little
forethought in this matter.
—
Good Camp Sites. Often in traveling a party
must put up for the night on unfavorable ground;
but granting that there is much choice in the
matter, then select, in summer, an open knoll, a low
ridge, or, better, still, a bold, rocky point jutting out
into a rive»" or lake. A low promontory catches the
CAMP MAKING 217
breezes from both sides, which disperse fog and

insects, and it is soon dried whenever the sun shines.
In cold weather seek an open, park-like spot in

the forest, where surrounding trees will break the
wind; or a "bench" (natural terrace backed by a
cliff) on the leeward side of a hill. In the latter
case, build your fire against the cliff, and shield the
tent with a wind-break. The rock will reflect heat
upon the tent, and will serve as a smoke-conductor
as well.
Ona hillside that is mostly bare, if there be a
thicket or a cluster of evergreen trees, get on the
downhill side of it. The stream of cold air from
above will jump this obstacle and will leave an
eddy of comparatively warm, still air immediately
below it.
The best site for a fixed camp is near a river or
lake, or on a bold, wooded islet, with a bathing
beach, boating and fishing waters. A picturesque
outlook is desirable, of course, but not if it makes
the camp too prominent a landmark and so robs it

of the privacy that refined people appreciate in camp
as anywhere else.
System in Camping. — The celerity with which
a camp is made depends upon the training and wil-
lingness of the men, and the system by which their
duties are parceled. Let us suppose that there are
four in the party, besides the teamster or packer.
Then let No. i, who is cook, get out the provisions
and utensils, rig up the fireplace, build ?. fire, and
prepare the food for cooking, while No. 2 is rustling
wood and water. Meantime Nos. 3 and 4 clear
the ground and smooth it off, cut tent pegs and poles,
unpack the tent, and summon all hands for a minute,
if they are needed, to assist in raising the tent and
pegging it " square." Then the cook goes on with

his proper duties, the axeman cuts and beds a chop-
ping-block and gets in night-wood, and the canvas-
men turn bed-makers. Thus, by the time supper is
ready, which will be within an hour, or less, the
camp will be properly made, and every one's vvôrk
is done save the unfortunate scullion's.
When camping with a pack-train, pile the packs
neatly together and cover them with canvas, and sim-
ilarly pile and protect the saddles, making especially
sure that the lash ropes cannot get wet, and that
nothing will be buried out of sight, off somewhere
by itself, if snow falls during the night. Soldierly
system in all such matters pays a big dividend in
time and good temper.
Even when stopping overnight, have a place for
everything and let everything be in its place.
Novices or shiftless folk strew things about :.nd can't
find them when needed. That is one reason why it
takes them twice as long as it should to make or
break camp, and it is why they are forever losing
this and that, or leaving them behind and forget-
ting them they reach the next stopping place.
till
If obliged the tent where there is not

to pitch
good natural drainage, trench it, if the weather be
at all dubious. It is miserable business to crawl
out into a driving storm at night and dig a ditch by
lantern-light — worse still to awake to a realiza-
tion that trenching is too late to save your soaking
possessions. " Make yourself ready in your cabin
for the mischance of the hour, if so it hap."
Dining Place. — It is from the
wearisome to eat
ground; and as Thoreau says, " None is so poor that
he need sit on a pumpkin —
that is shiftlessness.'^
If stopping more than a day in one place, set up a
rustic table and benches, away from the tent and
near the cooking fire. Drive four stakes into the
ground for legs, nail cleats across the ends, and
cover the top with boards or straight sticks. If you
have no nails, use forked stakes.
By the way, nearly every made-up picture ot a
camp shows crotches cut like Fig. 109. Why,
good artists —
why ? You may hunt half a day in
the woods to find such a natural crotch, and, if you
should find it, the thing would be good-for-nothing
CAMP MAKING 219
as a stake, because you couldn't drive It without
splitting it. A
fork like Fig. no
can be found
anj'where; cut it as shown by the dotted lines, and
Fig. 109 — Fig. no —

Rare Natural Common To Make a ^"O^
Crotch Crotch Crutch '"C^ 4^
it will drive all right. If somebody is injured and
needs a crutch, pick out a sapling with limbs grov/-
ing opposite, as in Fig. in, cut out the central
stem, trim, and shave down.
Acomfortable height for the table is 30 inches,
for the benches 18 inches. The latter are made in
the same way as the table. Three widths of 10-
inch boards make a good table top, and one suffices
for each bench.
If you have a spare tent fly or tarpaulin, rig it
over the dining table as a canopy. If no trees
stand convenient for stretching it, set up two forked
posts, lay a ridge pole on them, and guy out the
sides to similar frames or to whatever may grow
handy. To set a long stake, sharpen the butt end,
hold the pole vertically, and make a hole in the
ground by working the stick up and down as a
quarryman does a long drill.
A table, bench, or shelf, can easily be set up
wherever two trees grow close enough together.
Nail a cross-piece from one to the other, and a
similar one at same level on the other side, then
cover with straight sticks or pieces of board.
Commissariat. — If food is carried in side-open-
ing bags, suspend them from a horizontal pole run
from tree to tree or from forked stakes. A ciip-
board made from packing boxes can be hung up n
the same way, to keep vermin out. If ants are
troublesome, the edibles can be hung up bj^ wires,
in a place where they will be sheltered from sun and
rain.
In a stationary camp there should be a separate
commissary tent, preferably of the baker style, as
its door makes a good awning to work under in wet
weather. Do not set boxes or bags of provisions

on the ground, but on sticks, to keep dampness
away from them.
Racks or hangers for utensils, dish towels, etc.,
are improvised in many ways: a bush trimmed with
stubs left on, and driven in the ground where it
is wanted, inverted crotches nailed to a tree, and
so on. Pegs of hard wood whittled to a blunt

point can be driven into the trunk of a softwood
tree by first making a vertical axe gash at the spot
where the peg is to go.
—
Cold Storage. Butter and milk should noi be
stored near anything that has a pronounced odor,
for they would be tainted. As soon as the camp
ground is reached the butter tin or jar should be
placed in a net or bag and sunk in the spring or

cold brook, the string being tied to the bank so that
a freshet may not carry the food away or bury it
out of sight. Later, if you stay in that place, a
little rock-lined well can be dug near the spring,
and covered securely so that 'coons and porcupines
cannot plunder it.
Meat and fish may be kept fresh until consumed
by digging a hole and putting a packing box in it,
surrounding the sides and bottom of the box with
six inches or more of gravel, and covering top of
box with burlap or something similar. Keep the
gravel and the burlap wet, and cover all with wet
evergreen boughs.
If you have ice, a refrigerator can be made like
the fireless cooker described in Chapter IV; or bore
a few holes for drainage in the bottom of a box
CAMP MAKING 221
or barrel, sink it in the ground to its top, and cover

with burlap or a blanket.
At a cabin in the Smokies, where I lived alone
for three years, I had a spring box like the one
shown in Fig. ii2, which kept things cool and safe
in the warmest weather, yet was easy for me to get
Fig. 112 — Spring Box
into. Ashort iron pipe at A entered the spring;

the box inclined slightly toward the outlet B; pails
and jars sat on flat rocks inside; the top was fas-
tened by the round stick C
passing through auger
holes in the upright cleats.
Caches for provisions and other articles will be
described in Volume II.
Tent Furnishings. —
If staying more than a
night in one place, up the
fit tent with hangers from
which spare clothing, knapsacks and pouches, wall
pockets, lantern, guns, and other loose articles may
be suspended where they are kept dry, out of the
way, and handy to get at. In a wall tent, plant a
forked stake at each corner and lay a pole on them
along each side, with nails in it. Guns are laid
on shorter stakes underneath these. At the rear
end you may set up a set of shelves for odds and
ends.
If you have candles and no lantern, cut a stick
long enough to hold the light as high as you want
it, sharpen one end to shove in the ground,
split the
other end a little, put a loop of bark horizontally

in the cleft, the candle in the loop, and draw tight
against the stick. Half a potato, with a hole
scooped in it, or a small can filled with earth, makes
a portable candlestick.
j;

Fence. —
Wild hogs are literally the hetes noires
of southern campers. Your thin-flanked, long--
legged, sharp-nosed razorback, with tusks gleaming
from his jaws —
he or she of the third or further
removed generation of feral lawlessness is —
th^
most perverse, fearless, and maliciously destructive
"
brute in America, wolverines or " Indian devils
not excepted. Shooting his tail off does not dis-
courage him, rocks and clubs are his amusement,
and no hint to leave that is weaker than a handful
of red pepper baked inside a pone o' bread will drive
him away. A
hog-proof fence around camp, un-
sightly though it be, is one's only safeguard in south-
ern wildwoods.
Wash-Stand. —A shelf between two trees, made
as previously described, is best for this purpose. It
should be so situated that wash-water will be thrown
directly into a stream, or at least where it will
quickly drain away from the camp, so as not to
attract flies.
If one's ablutions are performed in the stream

itself,drive a stick in the ground and nail the lid
of a tin box to the top of it for a soap-dish.
—
Camp Sanitation. Nothing is cleaner, sweet-
er, wholesomer, than a wildvvood unspoiled by man
and few spots are more disgusting than a " piggy ",
camp, with slops thrown everywhere, empty cans
and broken bottles littering the ground, and organic
refuse left festering in the sun, breeding disease
germs, to be spread abroad by the swarms of flies. I
have seen one of Nature's gardens, an ideal health
resort, changed in a few months by a logging crew
into an abomination and a pest-hole where typhoid
and dysentery wrought deadly vengeance.
Destroy at once all refuse that would attract flies
or bury it where they cannot get at it.
Fire is the absolute disinfectant. Burn all solid
kitchen refuse as fast as it accumulates. When a
can of food is emptied toss it on th'^ fire and burn
it out, then drop it in a sink-hole, that you have
CAMP MAKING 223
dug for slops and unburnable trash, and cover it
with earth or ashes so no mosquitoes can breed in

it after a rainfall.
The sink should be on the downhill side of camp,
and where it cannot pollute the water supply.
Sprinkle kerosene on it, or burn it out frequently
with a brush fire.
A latrine, as substitute for a closet, is one of the
first things to be provided. A rude but sanitary
Fig. 113 — Latrine

one that can be made in a short time is shown in
Fig. 113. The excavated earth is piled at the rear^
and a paddle is left in it to cover excreta every time
the place is used. (Whoever wrote Deuteronomy
was a good camper.) The
log used as seat, and the
back-rest, are removable, so that a fire can be built
in the trench every now and then from dead brush.
Ashes and charcoal are good disinfectants in them-
selves. Dry earth does very well; but the trench
should be burnt out after a rain.
A muslin or brush screen six feet high may be
set around the latrine on stakes. bathing screenA
can be similarly arranged at the water's edge.
Camp Conveniences. —A
chopping-block is the
first thing needed about a camp. The axe, when not
in use, should alwa5'S be stuck in that particular
block, where any one can find it when wanted, and
where it will not injure men or dogs.
Do not let the axe lie outdoors on a very cold
night; the frost would make
it brittle, so that the
steel might shiver on the first knot you struck the

next morning.
Stretch a stout line between two trees where the
sunlight will strike, and air your blankets on it
every day or two when the weather is pleasant.
Against a straight tree near the tent make a rack,
somewhat like a billiard-cue rack, in which fishing
rods can be stood, full rigged, without danger of
being blown down.
Of course, it takes time and brisk work to make
everything snug and trim around camp but it pays, ;
just the same, to spend a couple of days at the start

in rigging up such conveniences as I have described,
and getting in a good supply of wood and kindling.
To rush right off hunting or fishing, and leave the
camp in disorder, is to eat your dough before it i£
baked.
CHAPTER XIII
THE CAMP-FIRE
**I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great
fire."— ^//'j Well that Ends Well.
Cold night weighs down the forest bough,

Strange shapes go flitting through the gloom.
But see —
a spark, a flame, and now
The wilderness is home!
— Edivin L. Sabin.
The always littered with old leaves,
forest floor is
dead sticks, and fallen trees. During a drought this

rubbish is so tinder-dry that a spark falling in it
may start a conflagration but through a great part
;
of the year the leaves and sticks that lie flat on the
ground are too moist, at least on their under side, to
Ignite readih'". If werake together a pile of leaves,
cover It higgledy-piggledy with dead twigs and
branches picked up at random, and set a match to It,
the odds are that It will result In nothing but a quick
blaze that soon dies down to a smudge. Yet that
is the way most of us tried to make our first out-
door fires.
One
glance at a camper's fire tells what kind of a
woodsman he Is. It Is quite Impossible to prepare
a good meal over a heap of smoking chunks, a fierce
blaze, or a great bed of coals that will warp Iron
and melt everything else.
If one would have good meals cooked out of doors,
and would save much time and vexation —
In other
words, If he wants to be comfortable In the woods,
he must learn how to produce at will either ( i ) a
quick, hot little fire that will boll water In a Jiffy,
223
and will soon burn down embers that are not too
to
ardent for frying; or (2) a solid bed of long-lived
coals that will keep up a steady, glowing, smokeless
heat for baking, roasting, or slow boiling; or (3) a
big log fire that will throw its heat forward on the
ground, and into a tent or lean-to, and will last
several hours wîthout replenishing.
—
Luncheon Fire. For a noonday lunch, or any
other quick meal, when you have only to boil coffee
and fry something, a large fire is not wanted. Drive
a forked stake in the ground, lay a green stick across
it, slanting upward from the ground, and weight
the lower end with a rock, so you can easily regulate

the height of the pot. The slanting stick should
be notched, or have the stub of a twig left at its
upper end, to hold the pot bail in place, and should
be set at such an angle that the pot swings about a
foot clear of the ground.
Then gather a small armful of sound, dry twigs
from the size of a lead pencil to that of your finger.
Take no twig that lies flat on the ground, for such
are generally damp or rotten. Choose hardwood,
if there is any, for it lasts well.
Select your best sticks for kindling.
three of
Shave each of them almost through, for half its
length, leaving lower end of shavings attached to
the stick, one under the other. Stand these in a
tripod, under the hanging pot, with their curls
down. Around them build a small conical wig-
wam of the other sticks, standing each on end and
slanting to a common center. The whole affair is
no bigger than your hat. Leave free air spaces be-
tween the sticks. Fire requires air, and plenty of it,
and it burns best when it has something to climb up
on hence the wigwam construction.
; Now touch
off the shaved sticks, and in a moment you will have
a small blast furnace under the pot. This will get
up steam in a hurry. Feed it with small sticks as
needed.
Meantime get two bed-sticks, four or five inches
THE CAMP-FIRE 227
thick, or a pair of flat rocks, to support the frying
pan. The firewood will
all drop to embers soon
after the pot boils. Toss out the smoking butts,
leaving onl\' clear, glowing coals. Put your bed-
sticks on either side, parallel and level. Set the pan
on them, and fry away. So, in twenty xTiinutes
from the time you drove your stake, the meal will be
cooked.
A man acting wîthout system or forethought, in
even so simple a matter as this, can waste an hour
in pottering over smoky mulch, or blistering him-
self before a bonfire, and it will be an ill mess of
half-burned stuff that he serves in the end.
,
—
Dinner Fire. First get in plenty of wood and
kindling. If you can find two large flat rocks, or
several small ones of even height, use them as and-
irons; other^^•ise lay down two short cuts off a
five-or six-inch log, facing you and about three feet
apart. On these rocks or billets lay two four-foot
logs parallel, and several inches apart, as rests for
your utensils. Arrange the kindling between and
under them, with small sticks laid across the top
of the logs, a couple of long ones lengthwise, then
more short ones across, another pair lengthwise, and
thicker short ones across. Then light it. Many
prefer to light the kindling at once and feed the fire
gradually; but I do as above, so as to have an even
glow under several pots at once, and then the sticks
will all burn down to coals together.
This is the usual way to build a cooking fire when
there is no time to do better. The objection is that
the supporting logsmust be close enough together
up the pots and pans, and, being round, this
to hold
leaves too little space between them for the fire to
heat their bottoms evenly; besides, a pot is liable to
slip and topple over. A better way, if one has
time, is to hew both the inside surfaces and the tops
of the logs flat. Space these supports close enough
together at one end for the narrowest pot and wide
enough apart at the oth?r for the frying-Dan.
If you carry fire-irons, as recommended in a pii»
vious chapter, much bother Simply lay
is saved.
down two flat rocks or a pair of billets far enough
apart for the purpose, place the flat irons on them,
and space them to suit the utensils.
If a camp grate is used, build a crisscross firo
of short sticks under it.
Split wood is round sticks for cooking;

better than
it catches easier and burns more evenly.
Camp Crane. — Pots for hot water, stews, cof-
fee, and so on, are more manageable when hung
above the fire. The heat can easily be regulated, the
pots hanging low at first to boil quickly, and then
being elevated or shifted aside to simmer.
Set up two forked stakes about five feet apart and
four feet to the crotches. Across them lay a green
stick (lug-pole) somewhat thicker than a broom-
stick. Now cut three or four green crotches from
branches, drive a nail in the small end of each,
or cut a notch in it, invert the crotches, and hang
them on the lug-pole to suspend kettles from. These
pot-hooks are to be of different lengths so that the
kettle can be adjusted to different heights above
the fire, first for hard boiling, and then for simmer-
ing. were hung from the lug-pole itself,
If kettles
this adjustment could not be made, and j'ou would
have to dismount the whole business in order to
get one kettle off. *
* It is curious how many different names have been bC'
atowed upon the hooks by which kettles are suspended over
a fire. Our forefathers called them pot-hooks, trammels, hakes,
hangers, pot-hangers, pot-claws, i)ot-crooks, gallows-crooks, pot-
chips, pot-brakes, gibs or gib-crokes, rackan-crooks (a chain oi
pierced bar on which to hang hooks was called a rackan or
reckon), and I know not what else besides. Among Maine
lumbermen, such an implement is called a lug-stick, a hook for
lifting kettles is a hook-stick, and a stick sharpened and driven
into the ground at an angle so as to bend over the fire, to
susi)end a kettle from, is a wambeck or a spygelia —
the Red
Gods alone know why! The frame built over a cooking-fire is
called by the Penobscots kdchi-plak-wagn, and the_ Micmacs call
the lug-stick a chiplok-waiigan, which the white guides have par-
tially anglicized into waugan-stick. It is well to know, and
heresy to disbelieve, that, after boiling the kettle, it brings bad
luck to leave the waugan or spygelia standing.
_
If this catalogue does not suffice the amateur cook to express
his ideas about such things, he may exercise his jaws with the
Romany (gipsy) term for pot-hook, which is kkkauviscoe sasteK_
;
THE CAMP-FIRE 229

If forked stakes are not readily found in the
neighborhood, drive straight ones, then split the
tops, flatten the ends of the cross-pole and insert
them in the clefts of the stakes.
You do not want a big fire to cook over. Many
and many a time I have watched old and experienced
woodsmen spoil their grub, and their tempers, too,
by trying to cook in front of a roaring winter camp-
fire, and have marveled at their lack of common-
sense. Off to one side of such a fire, lay your bed-
logs, as above then shovel from the camp-fire enough
;
hard coals to fill the space between the logs within

three inches of the top. You now have a steady,
even heat from end to end it can easily be regulated
;
there is level support for every vessel; and you can

wield a short-handled frying-pan over such an out-
door range without scorching either the meat or
yourself.
Fire for Baking. —
For baking in a reflector, or
roasting a joint, a high fire is best, with a backing
to throw the heat forward. Sticks three feet long
can be leaned against a big log or a sheer-faced rock,
and the kindling started under them.
Often a good bed of coals is wanted. The camp-
firegenerally supplies these, but sometimes they are
needed in a hurry, soon after camp is pitched. To
get them, take sound hardwood, either green or dead,
and split it into sticks of uniform thickness (say i)4-
inch face). Lay down two bed-sticks, cross these
near the ends with tvAô others, and so on up until
you have a pen a foot high. Start a fire in this
pen. Then cover it with a layer of parallel sticks
(aid an inch apart. Cross this with a similar layer
at right angles, and so upward for another foot.
The free draft will make a roaring fire, and all will
burn down to coals together.
The thick bark of hemlock, and of hardwoodi
generally, will soon yield coals for ordinary cook-
ing.
To keep coals a long time, cover them with ashes,
or with bark which will soon burn to ashes. In
wet weather a bed of coals can be shielded by slant-
ing broad strips of green bark over it and over-
lapping them at the edges.
Fire in a Trench. —
In time of drought when
everything is tinder-dry, or in windy weather, es-
pecially if the ground be strewn with dead leaves
or pine needles, build your fire in a trench. This is
the best way, too, if fuel is scarce and you must de-
oend on brushwood, as a trench conserves heat.
Dig the trench in line with the prevailing wind.
The point is to get a good draught. Make the wind-
ward end somewhat wider than the rest, and deeper,
sloping the trench upward
to the far end. Line
the sides with they are to be found, as
flat rocks, if
they hold heat a long time and keep the sides from
crumbling in. Lay other rocks, or a pair of green
poles, along the edges to support vessels. little A
chimney of flat stones or sod, at the leeward end,
will make the fire draw well. If there is some
sheet-iron to cover the trench a quite practical stove
is made, but an open trench will do very well if
properly managed.
The Hunter's Fire. — Good for a shifting
ramp in the fall of the year, because it affords first
a quick cooking fire with supports for the utensils,
and afterwards a fair camp-fire for the night when
the weather not severe.
is Cut two hardwood logs
not less than a foot thick and about six feet long.
Lay these side by side, about fifteen inches apart
at one end and six or eight inches at the other.
Across them lay short green sticks as supports, and
on these build a crisscross pile of dry wood and set
fire to it. The upper courses of wood will soon
burn to coals which will drop between the logs and
Bet them blazing on the inner sides. (If the bed
logs were elevated to let draught under them they
would blaze all around, and would not last long.)
After supper, lay two green billets, about eight
'Hches thick, across the bed logs, and aut nisht-wood
. THE CAMP-FIRE 231
on A, to be renewed as required. In the morning

there will be fine coals with which to cook break-
fast.
Winter Camp-Fire. — Let " Nessmuk " describe
how and a companion kept
hfe an open camp com-
fortabJy warm through a week in winter, with no
other cutting tools than their hunting hatchets:
' We
first felled a thrifty butternut tree ten inches in
dianneter, cut off three lengths of five feet each, and carried
them to camp. These were the back-logs. stout Two
staKes were driven at the back of the fire, and the logs, on
top of each other, were laid firmly against the stakes. The
latter were slanted a little back, and the largest log placed
ai.bottom, the smallest on top, to prevent tipping forward.
A couple of short, thick sticks were laid with the ends
against the bottom log by way of fire-dogs; a fore-stick
five feet long and five inches in diameter; a well built pyra-
mid of bark, knots and small logs completed the camp-fire,
which sent a pleasant glow of warmth and heat to the
furthest corner of the shanty. For night-wood we cut a
dozen birch and ash poles from four to six inches across,
trimmed them to tips, and dragged them to camp.
the
Then we denuded dry hemlock of its bark by aid of ten^
a
foot poles flattened at one end, and packed the bark to
camp. We had a bright, cheery fire from the early evening
until morning, and four tired hunters never slept more
soundly.
"We stayed in that camp a week; and, though the
weather was rough and cold, the pocket-axes kept us
little
well in firewood. We
selected butternut for back-logs, be-
cause, when green, it burns very slowly and lasts a long
time. And we dragged our smaller wood to camp in
lengths of twenty to thirty feet, because it was easier to lay
them on the fire and nigger them in two than to cut them
' '
shorter with light hatchets. With a heavj* axe we should

have cut them to lengths of five or six feet."
The first camp I ever made was built exactly after
the " Nessmuk " pattern, shanty-tent, camp-fire with

butternut back-logs, and all (see chapters III. and
IV. of his Woodcraft). My
only implement, be-
sides knives, was a double-bitted hatchet just like
his, of surgical instrument steel, weighing, with its
twelve-inch handle, only eighteen ounces. I was
alone. I stayed in that camp five weeks, in October

and November; and I was snug and happy all the
time. But then I was camping just for the fun oi
It. It Is come In at night-
quite a different matter to
fall, and have to get In night-wood with
dog-tired,
a mere hatchet. Don't try that sort of camping
without a full-size axe.
If there is a big, flat-faced rock or ledge on the
camp site, take advantage of it by building your fire

against it, with the tent In front. Or build a wall
of rocks for a fire-back, with stone " andirons."
Wooden ones must be renewed every day or so.
But if logs must be used, and you have an axe, cut
the back-logs from a green tree at least a foot thick,
choosing wood that Is slow to burn. Plaster mud
in the crevices between the logs, around the bottom
of stakes, and around the rear end of '' hand-
junks " or billets used as andirons; otherwise the
fire will soon attack these places. The fire-back
reflects the heat forward Into the tent, conducts
the smoke upward, and serves as a windbreak in
front of camp; so the higher It is, within reason, the
better.
Novices generally erect the fire-back too far from
the tent. Conditions vary, but ordinarily the face
of the back-logs should not be more than five feet
from the tent front; with a small fire, well tended,
it need not be over four feet.
—
The Indian's Fire. Best where fuel Is scarce,
or when one has only a small hatchet with which to
cut night-wood. Fell and trim a lot of hardwood
saplings. Lay three or four of them, on the ground,
butts on top of each other, tips radiating from this
center like the spokes of a wheel. On and around
this center build a small, hot fire. Place butts of
other saplings on this, radiating like the others. As
the wood burns away, shove the sticks In toward the
center, butts on top of each other, as before. This
saves much chopping, and economizes fuel. Build
a little v/indbreak behind you, and lie close to the
fire. Doubtless you have heard the Indian's dictum
(southern Indians express It just as the northern
THE CAMP-FIRE 233
and western ones do): "White man heap fool;
make um big fire — can't git near: Injun make um
little fire — git close. Uh, good!
"
—
Kindling. The best kindling is fat pine, or the
bark of the paper birch. Fat pine is found in the
stumps and butt cuts of pine trees, particularly those
that died on the stump. The resin has collected
there and dried. This wood is usually easy to split.
Pine knots are the tough, heavy, resinous stubs of
limbs that are found on dead pine trees. They, as
well as fat pine, are almost imperishable, and those
iticking out of old rotten logs are as good as any.
In collecting pine knots go to fallen trees that have
almost rotted away. Hit the knot a lick with the
poll of the axe and generally it will yield if you ;
must chop, cut deep to get it all and to save the axe
edge. The knots of old dead balsams are similarly
used. Usually a dead stump of pine, spruce, or baU
sam, all punky on the outside, has a core very rich
makes excellent kindling.
in resin that
Hemlock knots are worthless and hard as glass —
keep your axe out of them.
The thick bark of hemlock is good to make glow-
ing coals in a hurry; so is that of hardwoods gen-
erally- Good kindling, sure to be dry underneath
the bark in all weathers, is procured by snapping
off the small dead branches, or stubs of branches,
that are left on the trunks of small or medium-sized
trees, near the ground. Do not pick up twigs from
the ground, but choose those, among the downwood,
that are held up free from the ground. Where a
tree is found that has been shivered by lightning,
or one that has broken off without uprooting, good
splinters of dry wood will be found. In every
laurel thicket there plenty of dead laurel, and,
is
since it is of sprangling growth, most of the branches

will be free from the ground and snap-dry. They
ignite readily and give out intense heat.
The bark of all species of birch, but of paper
birch especially, is excellent for kindling and for
torches. It Is full of resinous oil, blazes up at once,
will burn in any wind, and wet sticks can be ignited
with it.
Tinder, and methods of getting fire without
matches, will be considered in Volume II.
Making Fire in the Wet. It is a good test —
of one's resourcefulness to make a fire out-of-doors
in rainy weather. The best way to go about it de-
pends upon local conditions. If fat pine can be
found the trick is easy: just split it up, and start
your fire under a big fallen log. Dry
and a fuel
place to build the fire can often be found under big
uptilted logs, shelving rocks, and similar natural
siiclters, or in the core of an old stump. In default
of these, look for a dead softwood tree that leans to
the south. The wood and bark on the under side
will be dry —
chop some off, split it fine, and build
your fire under the shelter of the trunk.
Lighting a Match. —
When there is nothing
dry to strike it on, jerk the tip of the match for-
ward against your teeth.
To light match in the wind, face the wind.
a
Cup your hands, with their backs toward the wind,
and hold the match with its head pointing toward
the rear of the cup i. —
e., toward the wind. Re-
move the right hand just long enough to strike the
match on something very close by; then instantly
resume the former position. The flame will run
up the match stick, instead of being blown away from
it, and so will have something to feed on.
Fire Regulations. —
On state lands and on
National forest reserves it is forbidden to use any
but fallen timber for firewood. Different States
have various other restrictions, some, I believe, not
permitting campers to light a fire in the woods af
all unless accompanied by a registered guide.
In New York the regulations prescribe that
" Fires will be permitted for the purpose of cooking,
warmth, and insect smudges; but before such fires
are kindled sufficient snace around the spot where
:
IHL CAMP-FIRE 235

the fire is to be lighted must be cleared from all
combustible material; and before the place is aban-
doned, fires so lighted must be thoroughly quenched."
In Pennsylvania forest reserves no fire may be
made except in a hole or pit one foot deep, the pit
being encircled by the excavated earth. In some
of California, no fire at all may be lighted without
first procuring a permit from the authorities.
Fire regulations are posted on all public lands,

and if campers disregard them they are subject to
arrest.
These are wise and good laws. Every camper
w^ho loves the forest, and who has any regard for
public interests, will do his part by obeying them to
the letter. However, if he occupies private property
where he may use his own judgment, or if he travels
in a wilderness far from civilization, where there
are no regulations, it will be useful ôr him to know
something about the fuel value of all kinds of wôod,
green as well as dead, and for such people the fol-
lowing information is given
The arts of fire-building are not so simple as they
look. To practice them successfully in all sorts of
wild regions we must knovv the different species ol
trees one from another, and their relative fuel
values, which, as we shall see, vary a great deaL
We must know how well, or ill, each of them burns
in a green state, as well as when seasoned. It is
important to discriminate between wood that makes
lasting coals, and such as soon dies down to ashes.
Some kinds of wood pop violently when burning and
cast out embers that may burn holes in tents and
bedding or set the neighborhood afire; others burn
quietly, with clear, steady flame. Some are stubborn
to split, others almost fall apart under the axe.
In wet weather it takes a practiced woodsman to
find tinder and dry wood, and to select a natural
shelter where fi.re can be kept going during a storm
of rain or snow, when a fire is most needed.
There are several handy little manuals by which
one who has no botanical knowledge can soon learii
how to identify the different species of trees by
^nerely examining their leaves or, late in the season,
;
by their bark, buds, and habit of growth.

But no book gives the other information that I
have referred to; so J shall offer, in the present chap-
ter, a little rudimentary instruction in this im.por-
tant branch of woodcraft.
It is convenient for our purpose to divide the trees
into two great groups, hardwoods and softwoods,
using these terms not so loosely as lumbermen do,
but drawling the line between sycamore, yellow
birch, yellow pine, and slippery elm, on the one
side, and red cedar, sassafras, pitch pine and white
birch, on the other.
As a general rule, hardwoods make good, slow-
burning fuel that yields lasting coals, and soft-
woods make a quick, hot fire that is soon spent.
But each species has peculiarities that deserve close
attention. The knack of finding what we want
in the woods lies a good deal in knowing what
we don't want, and passing it by at a glance.
Uninflammable Woods. — The
following
woods will scarcely burn at when
they are
all
green: basswood, black ash, balsam, box elder, buck-
eye, cucumber, black or pitch pine and white pine,
poplar or aspen, )êllow poplar or tulip, sassafras,
service berry, sourwood, sycamore, tamarack, tu-
pelo (sour gum), water oak. Butternut, chest-
nut, red oak, red maple, and persimmon burn very
slowly in a green state. Such woods, or those of
them that do not spit fire, are good for backlogs,
hand-junks or andirons, and for side-logs in a cook-
ing fire that is to be used continuously. Yellow
birch and white ash, on the contrary, are better for
a campfire when green than when seasoned. A
dead pine log seldom burns well unless split. The
outside catches fire readily, but it soon chars and
goes out unless a blazing fire ^^ sticks is kept up
against it.
THE CAMP-FIRE 237
Green wood burns bestin autumn and win-
ter, when the sap down. Trees that grow on
is
high, dry ground burn better than those of the

same species that stand in moist soil. Chestnut
cut on the summits of the Appalachians burns
freely, even when green, and the mountain beech
burns as ardently as birch. Green wood growing
along a river bank is very hard to burn.
Spitfire Woods. —
Arbor-vitae (northern '' white
cedar") and chestnut burn to dead coals that do
not communicate flame. They, as well as box elder,
red cedar, hemlock, sassafras, tulip, balsam, tam-
arack, and spruce, make a great crackling and snap-
ping in the fire. All of the soft pines, too, are
prone to pop. Certain hardwoods, such as sugar
maple, beech, white oak, and sometimes hickory,
must be watched for a time after the fire is started,
because the embers that they shoot out are long-
lived, and hence more dangerous than those of soft-
woods; but they are splendid fuel, for all that.
Stubborn Woods. —
The following woods are
very hard to split: Blue ash, box elder, buckeye,
cherry, white elm, winged elm, sour gum, hem-
lock (generally), liquidambar (sweet gum), honey
locust, sugar maple, sycamore, tupelo. Some woods,
however, that are stubborn when seasoned are
readily split when green, such as hickory, beech,
dogwood, sugar maple, birch, and slippery elm.
—
The Best Fuel. Best of all northern fire-
woods is hickory, green or dry. It makes a hot
fire, but lasts a long time, burning down to a bed
of hard coals that keep up an even, generous heat

for hours. Hickory, by the way, is distinctly an
American tree; no other region on earth produces it.
The live oak of the South is most excellent fuel,
50 is holly. Foliowîng the hickory, in fuel value,
^re chestnut oak, overcup, white, blackjack, post
^nd basket oaks, pecan, the hornbeams (ironwoods),
and dogwood. The latter burns finally to a beau-
tiful white ash that is characteristic; apple wood
does the same. Black birch also ranks here; it has
the advantage of " doing its own blowing," as a
Carolina mountaineer said tome, meaning that
the oil in the birch assists its combustion so that
the wood needs no coaxing. All of the birches are
good fuel, ranking in about this order: black, yel-
low, red, paper, and white. Sugar maple was the
favorite fuel of our old-time hunters and survey-
ors, because it ignites easily, burns with a clear,
steady flame, and leaves good coals.
Locust is a good, lasting fuel; it is easy to cut,
and, when green, splits fairly well; the thick bark
takes fire readily, and the wood then burns slowly,
with little flame, leaving pretty good coals; hence
it is good for night-wood. Mulberry has similar
qualities. The scarlet and willow oaks are among
the poorest of the hardwoods for fuel. Cherry
makes only fair fuel. White elm is poor stuff, but
slippery elm is better. Yellow pine burns well, as
its sap is resinous instead of watery like that of the
soft pines.
In some respects white ash is the best of green
woods for campers' fuel. It is easily cut and split,
is lighter to tote than most other hardwoods, and
is of so dry a nature that even the green wood

catches fire readily. It burns with clear flame,
and lasts longer than any other free-burning wood
of its weight. On a wager, I have built a bully
fire from a green tree of white ash, one match, and
no dry kindling whatever. I split some of the
wood very fine and " frilled " a few of the little
sticks with my knife.
Softwoods.- Most of the softwoods are good
•
only for kindling, or for quick cooking fires, and

then only when seasoned. For these purposes,
however, some of them are superior, as they split
and shave readily and catch fire easily.
Liquidambar, magnolia, tulip, catalpa, and wil-
low are poor fuel. Seasoned chestnut and yellow
poplar make a hot fire, but crackle and leave no
THE CAMP-FIRE 239
coals. Balsam fir, basswood, and the white and
loblolly pines make quick fires but are soon spent.
The gray (Labrador) pine or jack pine is con-
sidered good fuel in the far North, where hard-
woods are scarce. Seasoned tamarack is good.
Spruce is poor fuel, although, being resinous, it
kindles easily and makes a good blaze for " brand-
ing up " a fire. Pitch pine, which is the most in-
flammable of all woods when dry and " fat," will
scarcely burn at all in a green state. Sycamore and
buckeye, when thoroughly seasoned, are good fuel,
but will not split. Alder burns readily and gives
out considerable heat, but is not lasting.
The dry wood of the northern poplar (large-
toothed aspen) is a favorite for cooking fires, be-
cause it gives an intense heat, with little or no
smoke, lasts well, and does not blacken the uten-
sils. Red cedar has similar qualities, but is rather
hard to ignite and must be fed fine at the start.
The best green softwoods for fuel are white birch,
paper birch, soft maple, cottonwood, and quaking
aspen.
As the timber growing along the mar-
a rule,
gins of is softwood.
large streams Hence drift-
wood is generally a poor mainstay, unless there is
plenty of it on the spot; but driftwood on the sea-
coast is good fuel.
Precautions. —
have already mentioned the
I
necessity of clearing the camp ground of inflam-
mable stuff before starting a fire on it, raking it
toward a common center and burning all the dead
leaves, pine needles, and trash; otherwise it may
catch and spread beyond your control as soon as
your back is turned. Don't build your fire against
a big old punky log: it may smoulder a day or two
after you have left, and then burst out into flame
when a breeze fans it.
Never leave a spark of fire when breaking camp,
or when leaving it for the day. Make absolutely
sure of this, by drenching the camp-fire J:horoughly,
or by smothering it completely with earth or sand.
Never drop a lighted match, a burning cigar stub,
or the hot residue of your pipe, on the ground with-
out stamping it out. Have you
ever seen a forest
fire? It is terrible. Thousands of acres are de-
stroyed, and many a time men and women and
children have been cut off by a tornado of flame
and burned alive. The person whose carelessness
starts such a holocaust is worse than a fool —
he is
a criminal, and a disgrace to the good earth he
treads.
CHAPTER XTV
PESTS OF THE WOODS
Summer twilight brings the mosquito. In fact,
when we go far north or far south, we have him
with us both by day and night. Rather I should
say that we have her; for the male mosquito is a
gentleman, who sips daintily of nectar and minds
his own business, while madamespouse is a
his
whining, peevish, venomous virago, that goes about
seeking whose nerves she may unstring and whose
blood she may devour. Strange to say, not among
mosquitoes only, but among ticks, fleas, chiggers,
and the whole legion of bloodthirsty, stinging flies
and midges, it is only the female that attacks man
and beast. Stranger still, the mosquito is not only
a bloodsucker but an incorrigible wine-bibber as
well — it will get helplessly fuddled on any swet*-
wine, such as port, or on sugared spirits, while ol

gin it is inordinately fond.
Such disreputable habits —
the querulous sing'
song, the poisoned sting, the thirst for blood, and
the practice of getting dead drunk at every oppor-
tunity, are enough of themselves to make the mos-
quito a thing accursed; but these are by no mean.;
the worst counts in our indictment against it. We
have learned, within the past few years, that all the
suffering and mortality from malaria, yellow fever,
and filariasis (including the hideous and fatal
elephantiasis of the tropics) is due to germs
that are carried in no other way than by njosquitoes.
Flies spread the germs of typhoid fever aii-d malig^
ânt eye diseases; fleas carry the bubon'^ piaguCf'
241
the sleeping-sickness of Africa is transmitted by in-
sects. There is no longer any guesswork about this:
it is demonstrated fact. Professor Kellogg, sum-
ming up what is now known of the life history of
malaria-bearing mosquitoes {Anopheles) says:
**
When in malarial regions, avoid the bite of a
mosquito as you would that of a rattlesnake one—
can be quite as serious in its results as the other."
The worst of it, from a sportsman's view-point,
is that the farther we push toward the arctics or
the tropics, the worse becomes the pest of dangerous

insects. It is into just such countries that, now-
adays and in future, we must go in order to get
really first-class hunting and fishing. Conse-
quently the problem of how best to fight our insect
enemies becomes of ever increasing importance to
all who love to hunt over and explore the wild
places that are still left upon the earth.
Mosquitoes are bad enough in the tropics, but

they are at their worst in the coldest regions of the
earth.
Mosquitoes. — Harry de Windt reports that at
Verkhoyansk, in Siberia, which is the arctic pole of
cold (where the winter temperature often sinks
to -75° Fahr., and has been known to reach -8i°)
the mosquitoes make their appearance before the
snow is off the ground, and throughout the three
summer months, make life almost unbearable to
the wretched natives and exiles. The swamps and
shoaly lakes in the surrounding country breed mos-
quitoes in such incredible hosts that reindeer, sledge-
dogs, and sometimes even the natives themselves,
are actually tormented to death by them.
Throughout a great part of central and western
Canada, and Alaska, there are vast tundras of bog
moss, called by the Indians muskegs, which in sum-
mer are the breeding-grounds of unending clouds of
niosquitoes whose biting powers exceed those of any
insects known in the United States. Even if the
muskeg land were not a morass, this plague of
PESTS OF THE WOODS ^^^
mosquitoes would forever render it uninhabitable
in summer. The insects come out of their pupae
at the first sprouting of spring vegetation, in May,
and remain until destroyed by severe frosts in Sep-
tember. In Alaska, all animals leave for the snow-
line as soon as the mosquito pest appears, but the
enemy follows them even to the mountam tops above
rimber-line.Deer and moose are killed by mos-
which settle upon them in such amazing
quitoes,
swarms that the unfortunate beasts succumb from
having the blood sucked out of their bodies.
literally
Bears are driven frantic, are totally blinded, mire
in the mud, and starve to death. Animals that sur-
vive have their flesh discolored all through, and even
their marrow is reduced to the consistency of blood
and water. The men who penetrate such regions
are not the kind that would allow toil or privation
to break their spirit, but they become so unstrung
from days and nights of continuous torment inflicted
by enemies insignificant in size but infinite in num-
ber, become savage, desperate, and some-
that they
times even weep in sheer helpless anger.
In regions so exceptionally cursed with mosqui-
toes no mere sportsman has any business until win-
ter sets in. But even in the more accessible wood-
lands north and south of us the insect pest is by
far the most serious hardship that fishermen and
other summer outers are obliged to meet. Head-
nets and gauntlets are all very well in their way,
but one can neither hunt, fish, paddle, push through
the brush, nor even smoke, when so accoutered.
Consequently everybody tries some kind or other
of " fly-dope," by which elegant name we mean any
preparation which, being rubbed over the exposed
parts of one's skin, is supposed to discourage insects
from repeating their attacks.
The num.ber of such dopes is legion. They may
be classified in three groups:
( I ) Thick ointments that dry to a tenacious glaê
<Dn the skin, if the wearer abstain from washing;
(2) Liquids or semi-fluid unguents that are sup-
posed to protect by their odor alone, and must be
renewed several times a day;
(3) Insecticides, which poison the little beasts.
Glazes. —
Among the glazes, Nessmuk's recipe,
published in his Woodcraft, is perhaps as well
known and as widely used as any. He says this
about it:
"I have never known it to fail: 3 oz. pine tar, 2 oz.

<:astor oil, i oz. pennyroyal
all together over a
oil. Simmer
slow fire, and bottle for use. You will hardy need more
than a 2-oz. vial full in a season. One ounce has lasted me
six weeks in the woods. Rub it in thoroughly and liberally
at first, and after you have established a good glaze, a
Kittle replenishing from day to day will be sufficient. And
don't fool with soap and towels where insects are plenty.
A, good safe coat of this varnish grows better the longer it
is kept on —
and it is cleanly and wholesome. If vou get
your face or hands crocky or smutty about the camp-fire,
wet the corner of your handkerchief and rub it off, not for-
getting to apply the varnish at once wherever you have
cleaned it off. Last summer I carried a cake of soap and a
towel in my knapsack through the North Woods for a seven
weeks' tour, and never used either a single time. When I
had established a good glaze on the skin, it was too val-
uable to be sacrificed for any weak whim connected with
soap and water. ... It is a soothing and healing applica-
tion for poisonous bites already received."
Aside from my personal tests of many dopes, I

have had some interesting correspondence on this
topic with sportsmen in various parts of the world.
I quote from one letter received from Norman
Fletcher, of Louisville:
"Upon swampy trout streams of Michigan on a warm

the
May day when the insects are abundant and vicious
. . .
. . . pure pine tar is by far the best repellent when prop-

erly used. I give two recipes:
(i) Pure pine tar i ounce.
Oil pennyroyal i ounce.
Vaseline 3 ounces.
Mix
cold in a mortar. If you wish, you can add 3 per
cent, carbolic acid to above. Sometimes I make it ij^ oz.
tar.
(2) Pure pine tar 2 ounces,
Castor o'l . 3 ounceso
PESTS OF THE WOODS 245
Simmer for half an hour, and when cool add
Oil pennyroyal i ounce.
There arc many others of similar nature, but the above
are as good as any. Now as to use of above: apply
. . .
freely and frequently to all exposed parts of person, and

do not âs/i off until leaving the place where the pests
abound. You can wash your eyes in the morning, and
wash the palms of your hands as often as may be neces-
sary, but if you wish to be immune, don't wash any other ex-
posed parts. When you get accustomed to it you will
, . .
find some compensating comfort. ... I have had to contend

with mosquitoes, deer-flies, black-flies, and midges and . . .
have found " dope " with tar in it the best. I know that
where mosquitoes are not very bad, oil of citronella, oil of
verbena or of lemon-grass or of pennyroyal mixed with
vaselin will keep them ofi^, if the mixture is applied fre-
quently. These essential oils are quickly evaporated, how-
ever, by the heat of the body. Camphorated oil is also used
by some; this is simply sweet oil with gum camphor dis-
solved in it: the camphor is volatile and soon evaporates.
. . Now I don't much like tar dope because I can not
.
wash my face and hands as often as I could wish but when ;
it is necessary to get some trout, without being worried too
much by the insects, I can stand the tar for a few days."
Doctor L. O. Howard, Chief of the Bureau of

Entomolog}^ U. S. Department of Agriculture,
recommends the following tar dope:
Fishermen and hunters in the North Woods will find

"
that a good mixture against mosquitoes and black-flies can
be made as follows: Take 2^ pounds of mutton tallow,
melt and strain it. While still hot add 5^ pound black tar
(Canadian tar), stir thoroughly, and pour into the re-
ceptacle in which it is to be contained When nearly cool
stir in 3 ounces of oil of citronella and ij^ ounces of penny-
royal."
It is my own
experience that tar glazes do the
work when the weather is comparatively cool, but
when it is so hot that one perspires freely both by

night and day there is no chance for a glaze to be
established. The stuff melts and runs in your eves.
A hard rain will wash it off. Thick dopes, more or
less sticky, are unpleasant at all times, and especially
at night. For these reasons, and for appearance*
sake, most people will prefer to use a fluid or un-
guent that is less disagreeable, even though it must
be renewed every hour or two.
Essential Oils. —
As for protective liquids, it is
safe to say that everything in the pharmacopoeia
that seemed the least promising has been tried. The
oils of pennyroyal, cloves, lavender, citronella, eu-
calyptus, cedar and sassafras are used singly or in
combination. Spirits of camphor is offensive to
insects but soon evaporates.
Citronella is the favorite. All insect pests dis-
like it; but some people, too, find the odor intoler-
able. The oil of lavender flowers (genuine) has a
pleasant odor, and is equally effective, but it is
quite expensive. Both of these oils are bland,
whereas most of the others are irritant and will
make the eyes smart if the least bit comes in contact
with them. Artificial oil of lavender is worthless.
The protection afforded by a given oil depends
somewhat upon locality (number, species, persist-
ence of insects), and, apparently, the personal equa-
tion cuts some figure, for what works satisfactorily
ivith one man affords no immunity to another.
Hence the more popular dopes are " shot-gun pre-
scriptions," compounded on the principle that if nne
ingredient misses another may hit.
The trouble with all the essential oils is that
their protective principles are volatile. To retard
evaporation, add double or treble the amount of
castor which has a good body and is itself re-
oil,
pugnant to the whole created kingdom. After mix-

ing, put up some of this thick liquid in a small
capped oil can (bicycle oiler), to carry in the field.
Thicker dopes, which can be put up in collapsible
tubes like artists' colors, are made by mixing the
oil with carbolated vaseline, or with borated lano-
lin. The latter is a particularly good base because
it is not only antiseptic but it is also the best pre-
ventive of sunburn, excellent for blistered feet, and

a particularly good application for slight wounds
and abrasions. Add enough oil of lavender flowerr
:
PESTS OF IHE WOODS 247

to give it a strong odor, and put it up in tubes to
keep out moisture. I know nothing better in the

line of " elegant preparations " to keep off mos-
quitoes.
Insecticides. — One
of these is creosote. Another
is the tincture ofledum palustre (wild rosemary, a
European relative of our Labrador tea). Oil of
cassia (i.e., oil of cinnamon) is said to be an irri-
tant poison to all kinds of insects, and " its power
remains a long time after it has dried."
Another thing that flies of all sorts find bad for
their systems is quassia. It is used as an ingredient
of fly poisons, as a parasiticide, and in some fly
dopes. Either the fluid extract or the solid may be
employed, according to the base.
Carbolic acid in sweet oil (i to 16) is often used
where insects are very insistent. It has the obvious
advantage of being a good antiseptic as well. On
a trip to Hudson Bay, Dr. Robert T. Morris em-
ployed a very strong solution, of which he reported
" We
depended upon the mixture of one part of carbolic
acid and nine parts of sweet oil to keep off various things
that sought our acquaintance. A
very little of this mixture
on the face and hands was effective. It is a preparation
that I learned to use in Labrador, where none of the com-
mon applications would suffice."
Doctor Durham, of the English Yellow Fever
Commission, Rio de Janeiro, told Dr. L. O. How-
ard that
" He and the late Dr. Myers found that a 5 per cent, so-
lution of sulphate of potash prevented mosquitoes from
biting, and that they were obliged to use this mixture while
at work in their laboratory in Brazil to prevent themselves
from being badly bitten."
I judge this vvould also be a good preventive of

attacks from ticks and chiggers, as they cannot
stand sulphur.
Plain kerosene is certain death to all sorts of in-
sect pests, so long as they have not burrowed beneath
the skin, and one of the best preventives of their
:

attacks. It is used everywhere by men whose con-
stant exposure renders them less fastidious about
personal greasiness and aroma than they are solici-
tous for comfort and health. Dr. W. H. Dade,
an army surgeon in the Philippines, found that the
addition of one part oil of bergamot to sixteen of
kerosene made the odor less disagreeable and added
enough body to prevent evaporation in less than six
to eight hours. I have used Japanese oil of cam-
phor for the same purpose.
Some Dopes. —
The following mixtures may be
particularly recommended
Mr. C. A. Nash's.
Oil of citronella i oz.
Spirits of camphor i oz.
Oil of cedar J/2 oz.
Doctor Howard says this is the most effective mixture

he has tried. " Ordinarily a few drops on a bath towel
hung over the head of the bed will keep Culex pipiens away
for a whole night. Where mosquitoes are very persistent,
however, a few drops rubbed on the face and hands will
suffice."
Dr. Edivard Beck's.

Pine tar 3 oz.
Olive (or castor) oil 2 oz.
Oil pennyroyal i oz.
Oil citronella i oz.
Creosote i oz.
Camphor (pulverized) i oz.
Carbolated vaseline large tube.
Heat the tar and oil and add the other ingredients;
simmer over slow fire until well mixed. The tar may be
omitted if disliked, or for ladies' use. Above will rather
more than fill a pint screw-top tin flask. This mixture not
only discourages insect attacks but is also a good counter-
irritant after being bitten. One may substitute for thy
olive oil its weight in carbolated vaseline and thus make
an unguent that can be carried in collapsible tubes, and the
Doctor now recommends this.
Col. Crojton Fox's.

Oil pennyroyal i dram.
Oil peppermint i dram.
Oil bergamot i dram.
Oil cedar i dram.
Quassia i dram.
Gum camphor 4 drams.
Vaseline, yellow 2 drams.
Dissolve camphor in vaseline by heat; when cold add
remainder.
I doubt if peppermint adds anything to the effi-

cacy of this formula, and would substitute citron-
ella or lavender.
The principles to be observed in compounding
a dope of one's own are ( i ) choose your repellents
or insecticides, or both; (2) add enough lanolin,
vaseline, castor oil, or other base to give the desired
**
body." It is well to incorporate some good anti-
septic wîth the stuff, to relieve irritation and poison-
ing from bites already received, and to serve as a
healing ointment for abrasions, bruises, and other
injuries, as already mentioned. Any ingredient
that irritates the skin or makes the eyes smart should
be avoided, except where insects are so bad that
such addition may be necessary.
Bites and Stings. — To relieve the itching of
insect bites the common remedies are ammonia or
a solution of baking soda. A
better one is to cover
each bite with flexible collodion (" New Skin ") ;
but be sure the bottle is always securely stoppered,

for the ether of the solvent evaporates very quickly
and then the stuff is useless.
A bee leaves its sting in the wound, and this of
course should be removed a wasp, hornet, or yellow-
;
jacket can sting repeatedly. For the pain, apply

ammonia or baking powder solution, or a weak solu-
tion of carbolic acid, or wet salt, moistened clay, a
mud poultice, a slice of raw onion, or a moist quid
of tobacco.
Fleas. — In the high mountains of North Caro-
lina and adjoining States there are no mosquitoes,
at least none that sing or bite; but if a man sits
down on a log, it may be five miles from any house,
the chance is good that he will arise covered with
fleas. I have been so tormented by these nimble
allies of Auld Reekie, when spending a night in a
herder's cabin on the summit of the Smokies, that
I have* arisen in desperation and rubbed myself from
head to foot with kerosene. That settled the fleas.
Citronella will do as well.
If you catch a flea, don't try to crush it, for you
can't, but roll it between the fingers ; that break?
its legs; than you can open your fingers and kill it.
A good way, if water is handy, is to keep a tight

grip until you get your thumb and finger into some
water — a flea can't swim — then, if it is not al-
ready filled with blood, it will sink, and drown, and
go to meet its reward, which, let us hope, is a hot one.
When you have to occupy a cabin infested with
fleas, scrub it out with hot soapsuds, and see that
the site is well wet beneath the floor. Fleas will
not stay in a wet place.
—
Blood-Sucking Flies. In northern forests we
have several species of flies that attack man. The
deer-fly or '' bull-dog " is a small gad-fly that drives
her dagger-like mandibles into one's skin so viciously
that she takes out a bit of flesh and makes the blood
flow freely. The black-fly {Similium molestum) is
a stout, hump-backed, black termagant with trans-
parent wings, from one-sixth to one-quarter inch
long. This creature is a common nuisance of the
forests and along the streams of northern New Eng-
land, the Adirondacks, the Lake region, and Canada.
She keeps busy until late in the afternoon, poisoning
everything that she attacks, and raising a painful
lump as big as a dime at every bite. Closely related
species are the buffalo-gnat and turkey-gnat of the
South, which sometimes appear in incredible num-
bers, driving animals frantic and setting up an in-
flammatory fever that may prove fatal. Black-
flies and their ilk are easily driven away by smudges.
Mosquito dopes will protect one from them.

Blow-Flies. — Worst of all flies, though fortu-
nately rare in the North (it has been known to reach
Canada), is the screw-worm fly {Compsomyia macel-
laria), a bright metallic-green insect with golden re-
flections and four black stripes on the upper part of
the body. This is a blow-tiy which has the sicken-
ing habit of laying its eggs in wounds, and even in
the nostrils of sleeping men. Several fatalities from
this cause have been reported in our country; they
have been much more numerous in South America.
The gusanero of tropical America is described by a
'*
traveler as a beast of a fly that attacks you, you
know not when, till after three or four months you
know that he has done so by the swelling up of the
bitten part into a fair-sized boil, from which issues a
maggot of perhaps an inch and a half in length."
Another Amazonian fly of similar habits is the birni,
whose larva generates a grub in one's skin that re-
quires careful extraction, lest it be crushed in the
operation, " and then," said a native, " gentlemen
often go to o outro mundo" (the other world).
The motuca of Brazil has ways similar to those of
our black-fly, and, like it, can easily be killed with
one's fingers.
Pests of the Tropics. While I am on this —
topic, it may add a little to the contentment of those
outers who are unable to seek adventure in faraway
lands, but must needs camp within a hundred miles
or so of home, if I transcribe from the pages of a
well-known naturalist the following notes on some
of the impediments to travel in the tropics:
"But most numerous and most dreaded of all ani-

the
mals middle Amazons are the insects. Nearly all
in the
kinds of articulate life here have either sting or bite. The
strong trade wind keeps the lower Amazons clear of the
winged pests; but soon after leaving Manaos, and espe-
cially on the Maranon in the rainy season, the traveler
becomes intimately acquainted with half a dozen insects
of torture:
(i) The sanguinary mosquito. . . . There are several
species, most of them working at night; but one black fel-
low with white feet is diurnal. Doctor Spruce experi-
mented upon himself, and found that he lost, by leuing the
blood-letters have their own way, three ounces of blood
per day. . . .ceaseless irritation of these ubiquitous
The
creatures makes almost intolerable. The great Cortez,
life
afcfc^ ?l] his victories, could not forget his struggles
with
252' CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT "
these despicable enemies he

could not conquer. Scorpion
with cocked tails, spiders six
inches in diameter, and cêntl
o'f mos^ûitoes' ?".
!^^ '°^^"^' ^'' "^ ^^'^ ^ ^^^ - ^ ^Kid
^^^^•"'"^. o^„ sand-fly, a species of tromhidium
.Ji'i
called mosquito in Peru. It
is a minute,
dipter with two triangular, horny dark-colored
lancets, which leave a
mall, circular red spot on the
skin. It works by day re
lie/ing the mosquito at sunrise.
It is the great scourge of
In
an ,W "'""kby ^'"^
inferno
^ paradisiac spot
its presence. There
is%onvertedîn°o
are several species
which follow one another in succession
through the day
all of them being diurnal.
Their favorite region is saTd
to be on the Cassiquiare and
upper Orinoco
(3.) The maruim, which resembles the pium.
.
infinitely numerous on the
The- are
Jurua. Humboldt estimated
there were a million to a cubic
foot of air where he was.
ôtucac^Wtd tabono on the Maranon {Hadrus
/.iv . N
lepidotus)resembling a small horse-fly, of a
bronze-black
color with the tips of the wings transparent,
and a for-
midable proboscis, ...
(5) The moquim ... a microscopic scarlet
acarus re-
sembhng a minute crab under the glass.
It swarm's on
weeds and bushes
and on the skin causes an intolerable
Itching. An walk through the grassy streets of
hour's
1 effe was sufficient to cover my entire
bodv with mvriads
oi moquims, which it took a week,
and repeated bathing
with rum, to exterminate.
{e) Carapdtos or ticks {ixodes), which mount to the
tips of blades of grass, attach themselves to
the clothes of
passersby,_and bury their jaws and heads
so deeplv in the
flesh that It IS difficult to remove
them without leaving the
proboscis behind to fret and fester. In sucking one's blood
they cause no pain; but serious sores,
even ulcers often
result. ... '
These few forms of insect life must forever hinder

the
settlement of the valley. Besides there are ants
. . .
. .
innumerable in species and individuals, and

of all sizes
trom the little red ant of the houses to the
mammoth to'-
kandera, an inch and a half long.
The latter , . .
bites fiercely, but rarely causes death.

Doctor Spruce likens
the pain to a hundred thousand nettles.
... On the Tapa-
jos lives the terrible fire-ant
whose sting is likened
. . .
to the puncture of a red-hot needle.

The saiihas are not
carnivorous, but they make agriculture almost
impossible.
. .There are black and yellow wasps.
.
The large . . .
hairy caterpillars should be handled

with care as the
irritation caused by the nettling hairs
is sometimes a serious
matter. Cockroaches are great pests in the villages. Lice
hnd a congenial home on the unwashed Indians
of every
^nbe. but particularly the Andean.
Jiggers and fleas prefer
—
dry, sandy localities; they are accordingly most abounding
on the mountains. The Pacific slope is worthy of being
called flea-dom." Orton, The Andes and the Amazons,
pp. 484-487.
Northern Chiggers. — The moquim mentioned

above answers the description of our own chigger,
jigger, red-bug, as she variously called, which is an
is
entirely different beast from the real chigger or

•chigoe of the tropics. I do not know what may be
the northern limit of these diabolic creatures, but
have made their acquaintance on Swatara Creek in
Pennsylvania. They are quite at home on the
orairies of southern Illinois, exist in myriads on the
Ozarks, and throughout the lowlands of the South,
and are perhaps worst of all in some parts of Texas.
The chigger, as I shall call it, is invisible on one's
skin, unless you know just what to look for. Get it
on a piece of black cloth, and you can distinguish
w^hat looks like a fine grain of red pepper. Put it
under a microscope, and it resembles, as Orton says,
a minute crab. It lives in the grass, and on the un-
der side of leaves, dropping off on the first man or
beast that comes its wây. Then it prospects for a
good place, where the skin is thin and tender, and
straightway proceeds to burrow, not contenting it-
self, like a tick, wîth merely thrusting its head in and
getting a good grip, but going in body and soul, to
return no more. The victim is not aware of what
is in store for him until he goes to bed that night.
Then begins a violent itching, which continues for a

week or two. I have had two hundred of these
tormenting things in my skin at one time.
If one takes a bath in salt water every night be-
fore retiring, he can keep fairly rid of these unwel-
come guests. A surer preventive is to rub kerosene
on the waists, neck, ankles, and abdominal region.
Powdered sulphur dusted into one's drawers and
stocking legs will do if one keeps out of the bushes.
Naphthaline may be used successfully in the same
uianner.
The country ReppJ.e sometimes rub themselves
with salty bacon-rind before going outdoors, and
claim that this is a preventive; also that kerosene
will do as well. If one keeps an old suit of clothes
expressly for chigger-time, puts the suit in a closet,
and fumigates it thoroughly with the smoke of burn-
ing tobacco stems, no chigger will touch him. Alas!
that the preventives should all be so disagreeable.
When chiggers have burrowed underneath the
skin, neither salt, nor oil, nor turpentine, nor car-
bolized ointment, nor anything else that I have tried
will kill them, save mercurial ointment or the tinc-
ture of stavesacre seed, both of which are dangerous
if incautiously used. After much experiment, I
found that chloroform, dropped or rubbed on each
separate welt, will stop the itching for several hours.
It is quite harmless, and pleasant enough to apply.
Moderately strong ammonia, or a saturated solu-

tion of baking soda, will suffice if applied as soon as
the itching is felt, if treatment
but they are useless
is delayed.In the latter case, I would use tincture
of iodine. It is said that collodion brushed ovei
each welt will act as a specific, but I have had no
chance to try it.
Thechigger seems particularly fond of the but-

terfly-weed or pleurisy-root. It is seldom much of
a nuisance until the middle of June, and generally
disappears in the latter part of September.
—
Tropical Chigoes. The chigoe or sand-flea of
Mexico, Central America, and South America, is a
larger and more formidable pest than our little red-
bug. It attacks, preferably, the feet, especially un-
der the nail of the great toe, and between the toes.
The insect burrows there, becomes encysted, swells
enormously from the development of her young, and
thus sets up an intolerable itching in the victim's
skin. If the female is crushed or ruptured in the
tumor she has formed, the result is likely to be am-
putation of the toe, if nothing worse. She should
be removed entire by careful manipulation with a
needle. This chigoe is a native of tropical America,
but seems to be gradually spreading northward.
About 1872 it was introduced into Africa, and
spread with amazing rapidity over almost the entire
continent. It will probably soon invade southern
Europe and Asia.
—
Ticks. The wood-ticks that fasten on man are,
like the chiggcrs, not true insects, but arachnids, re-
lated to the scorpions and spiders. They are leath-
ery-skinned creatures of about the same size and
shape as a bedbug, but of quite different color and
habits. They *' use " on the under side of leaves of
low shrubs, and thence are detached to the person of
a passer-by just as chiggers are. They also abound
in old mulchy wood, and are likely to infest any
log that a tired man sits on. They hang on like
grim death, and if you try to pull one off your skin,
its head will break off and remain in the epidermis^
to create a nasty sore. The ticks that infest birds,

bats, sheep, and horses, are true insects, in no wise
related to the wood-ticks, dog-ticks, and cattle-ticks.
The cattle-tick is responsible for the fatal disease
among cattle that is known as Texas fever.
Preventive measures are the same as for chiggers.
To remove a tick without breaking off its head,
drop oil on it, or clap a quid of moistened tobacco
on it, or touch it with nicotine from a pipe, or
stand naked in the dense smoke of a green-wood
fire, or use whiskey externally, or hot water, or
flame ; in either case the tick will back its way out.
The meanest ticks to get rid of are the young, which
are known as " seed-ticks." They are hard to dis-
cover until they have inflamed the skin, and then
are hard to remove because they are so small and
fragile. A
man may find himself covered with hun-
dreds of them. In such case let him strip and rub
himself with kerosene, or, lacking that, steep some
tobacco or a strong cigar in warm water and do the
same with it. They will drop off.
—
PuNKiES. The punkie or '* no-see-um " of our
northern wildwoods, and its cousins the biting gnats
and stinging midges of southern and western forests,
are minute bloodsuckers that, according to my
learned friend Professor Comstock, live, " under
the bark of decaying branches, under fallen leaves,
and in sap flowing from wounded trees."
With all due deference to this distinguished
entomologist, I must aver that they don't live there
when I am around; they seem particularly fond of
sap flowing from wounded fishermen. Dope will
keep them from biting you, but it won't keep them
out of your eyes. Punkies are particularly annoy-
ing about sunset. They seem to know just when
and where you will be cleaning the day's catch of
trout, and that you will then be completely at their
mercy. At such times you will agree that they beat
all creation for pure, downright cussedness. Oil of
citronella will protect your face and neck, but you
can't have it on your hands when cleaning the fish,
Punkies can't stand a smudge.
Insects in Camp. —
The common house-fly,
which, as Dr. Howard suggests, should be called
the typhoid-fly, is often a great nuisance in camps.
Screening of tents and of food supplies is the only
sure remedy. Burning insect powder (pyrethrum)
will drive them out of a tent or cottage, and that is
also a good way to get rid of the wood cockroaches
that sometimes are attracted by the lights of the
camp and proceed to make themselves offensively at
home.
Sometime you may elect to occupy an aban-
doned lumber camp while on an outing. My ad-
vice is, by not all its inhabitants have moved
pass it :
away. Any shack in the woods may harbor bed-

bugs. If you must use such a place, don't forget
the kerosene can.
If ants are troublesome about camp, try to find
the nest by following the workers; then pour kero-
sene or boiling water into it. Red pepper or oil of
sassafras sprinkled about may discourage them, but
repellent substances are not to be depended upon.
Kerosene is the sovereign remedy.
Smudges. —A
good smudge is raised by using
cedar ''cigars," made as follows*. Take long
strips of cedarbark and bunch them together into
a fagot six or eight inches in diameter, about one
strip in three being dry and the others water-
soaked bind them with strips of the inner bark of
;
green cedar. Ignite one end at the camp-fire, and

set up two or more such cigars on different sides
of the camp, according as the wind may shift.
Punky wood piled on a bed of coals is also good.
The ammoniacal vapors from a smudge of dried
cow-dung is particularly effective. I have else-
where referred to smudges made of dried toad-
stools; these are peculiarly repellent to punkies. A
toadstool as large as one's two fists will hold fire
for six or eight hours. A
piece of one can be car-
ried suspended by a string around one's neck, the
burning end out. If the fungus is too damp at
first, it can soon be dried out by placing it before
the fire.
Scorpions. —
Scorpions are not uncommon as
âr north as Missouri. I often used to find them
in the neighborhood of St. Louis —
little red fel-
lows about 4 inches long. In the southwest, where
they abound, they grow to a length of 6 or 7
inches. They hide by day under flat rocks, in
dead trees, and in moist, dark places generally, and
do their foraging at night. They are very bellig-
erent, always fighting to the death. They carry
their tails curled upV/ard and forward, and can
only strike upward and backward. They are
sometimes unpleasantly familiar around camp,
especially in rainy weather, having a penchant for
crawling into bedding, boots, coat sleeves, trousers
legs, etc.
The sting of a small scorpion is about as severe

as that of a hornet; that of a large one is more
serious, but never fatal, so far as I know, except to
small children. After a person is stung a few
times he inoculated, and proof against the poison
is
tnereafter. If you get stung, take a hollow key

or small tube, press the hollow with force over the
juncture, causing- th**. poison and a little blood to
exude, hold firmly in place for several minutes,
and, if the scorpion was a large one, you have a
good excuse for drinking all the whiskey you want.
Ordinarily a quid of moist tobacco locally applied
eases the pain and reduces the swelling. Tobacco
juice, by the way, is fatal to scorpions, tarantulas,
and centipedes, and will set a snake crazy.
An uncommonly severe bite should be treated
like snake-bite (see Volume II).
Tarantulas. —
I first witnessed the leaping
powers of a tarantula one night when I was alone
in a deserted log cabin in southern Missouri. The
cabin had noi; been occupied for fifteen years, and
there was no furniture in it. I had scarcely made
my bed on the board floor when a tornado struck
the forest. It was a grand sight, but scared me
stiff. Weli, the electric plant wâs working finely;
just then, the lightning being almost a continuous
glare. A tarantula that spread as broad as my
hand jumped out of the straw that I was lying on
and —it was hard to tell which was quicker, he or
the lightning. He seemed disturbed about some-

thing. Not being able lo fight the tornado, I tooL
after the big spider with an old stumpy biroom that
happened to be in the cabin. When the broom
would land at one side of the room, the tarantula
would be on the other side. I was afraid he would
spring for my face, but presently he popped into
a hole somewhere, and vanished. The cabin some-
how stuck to terra firma, and I returned to my
pallet.
The tarantula's habits are similar to the scor-
pion's. Thefangs are in its mouth. The bJte 13
very severe, but not fatal to an adult. Cases of
men being injured by either of these venomous
arachnids are extremely rare, considering \'-i*.e
abundance of the pests in som.e countries, and their
habit of secreting themselves in clothes and bed-
ding. you want to see a battle royal, drop a
If
scorD'pn and a tarantula into the same box. They
will spring for each other in a flash, and both are
absolutely game to the last.
Centipedes. — I have had no personal experi-
ence with centipedes. Paul Fountain says:
" The
centipedes were an intolerable nuisance for they
had a nasty habit of hiding among the bed-clothes and un-
der the pillows, attracted there to prey on the bugs, as I
suppose one evil as a set-off to another.
; But the reiitipedes
were something more than a mere nuisance. Jt is all
very well to be blandly told by gentlemen who
think they
know all about it that the bites of centipedes and scorpions
are not dangerous. It may not be particularly dangerous
to have a red-hot wire applied to your flesh, but it is con-
foundedly painful. Yet that is to be preferred to a centi-
pede bite, which will not only make you dance at the time
of infliction, but leave a painful swelling for many day?
after, accompanied by great disturbance of the system."
The cowpunchers' remedy for centipede bites, ac-^
Mr. Hough, was " a chaw of tobacco on

wording to
the outside and a horn of whiskey on the inside,
"
both repeated frequently.
—
Porcupines. In northern woods the porcupine
is a common nuisance. It is a stupid beast, devoid
of rear, and an inveterate camp marauder. You
may kick it or club it unmercifully, yet it will re-
turn again and again to forage and destroy. The
*'
porky " has an insistent craving for salt, and will
gnaw anything that has the least saline flavor, any-
thing that perspiring hands have touched, such as
an axe-handle, a gunstock, a canoe paddle, and wnll
ruin the article. He is also ford of leather, and
will chew up your saddle, bridle, shoes, gloves,
belts, the sweat-band of your hat, or any sweaty
cloth or rope. Foodstuffs that are salty or greasy
are never safe from him unless hung up on wires-
Porcupine quills, being barbed, are hard to ex-
tract. When they break off they work deep into

the flesh. They are poisonous, in a way, and cause
severe pain.
The porcupine is not found south of the Cana-
dian faunal zone, which extends well down into
9ur northern States.
Skunks. — Another
notoriously fearless pest is
the skunk. It will turn tail quickly enough, but
nothing on earth will make it run. If a skunk
takes it into his head to raid your camp he will step
right in without any precautions whatever. Then
he will nose through all of your possessions, walk
over you if you be in his way, and forty men can-
not intimidate him.
Once when I was spending the summer in a
herder?' hut, on a summit of the Smoky Mountains,
a skunk burrowed under the cabin wall and came
up through the earthen floor. It was about mid-
night. My
two companions slept in a pole bunk
against the wall, and I had an army cot in the
middle of the room. It was cold enough for an
all-night fire on the hearth.
awoke with the uneasy feeling that some in-
I
truder was moving about ia the darkness. There
was no noise, and my first thought was of rattle-
snakes, which were numerous in that region. I sat
up and lit the lantern, which hung over my head.

One glance was enough. " Boys," I warned in a
stage whisper, " for the love of God, don't breathe;
!"
there's a skunk at the foot of my bed
The animal was not in the least disconcerted by
the light, but proceeded leisurely to inspect the
premises. It went under my cot and nosed around
there for five mortal minutes, while I lay rigid as
a corpse.
Then Doc sneezed. I heard Andy groan from
under his blanket: "You damn fool: now we'll
get it!"
But we didn't. Madame Polecat waddled to
their bunk, and I had a vision of two fellows sweat-
ing blood.
Then she moved over to the grub chest, found
some excelsior lying beside it, and deliberately went
to work making a nest.
An hour passed. I simply had to take a smoke.
My tobaccowas on a shelf right over the skunk.
I risked all, arose very quietly, reached over the
beast, got my tobacco, and retired like a ghost to
the other end of the cabin to warm myself at the
fire. We
were prisoners; for the only door was a
clapboard affair on wooden hinges that skreeked
like a dry axle.
The having made its bed, did not yet
visitor,
feel like turning in, but decided to find out what
for a bare-legged, white-faced critter I was, any-
how. It came straight over to the fireplace and
sniffed my toes. The other boys offered all sorts
of advice, and I talked brimstone back at them —
we had found that pussy didn't care a hang for
human speech so long as it was gently modulated.
That was a most amiable female of her species.
True, she investigated all our property that was
within reach, but she respected it, and finally she
cuddled up in the excelsior, quite satisfied with her
new home.
To cut an awfully long story short, the polecat
held us spellbound until daybreak. Then she
crawled out through her burrow, and we instantly
fled through our skreeky door. Doc had a shotgun
in his hand and murder in his heart. Not being
well posted on skunk reflexes, he stepped up within
ten feet and blew the animal's head clean off by a
simultaneous discharge of both barrels. Did that
headless skunk retaliate? It did, brethren, it did!
Many methods have been reported effective in
deodorizing clothing that has been struck by the
skunk's efliiuvium. Burying the clothes In earth is
of no use unless they are left there long enough to
rot them (they will smell again every time they get
wet). Chloride of lime Is objectionable for the
same reason. Ammonia Is said to neutralize the
odor, and benzine or wôod alcohol to extract it.
An old trappers' remedy Is to wrap the clothes in
fresh hemlock boughs and leave them out-of-doors
for twenty-four hours. A
writer in one of the
sportsmen's magazines states that, having met dis-
aster In the shape of a skunk, he took an old farmer's
advice, put some cornmeal on top of a hot stove,
262 e^r.rriNG AND WOODCRAFT
and, when began to char and smoke, he held
it
the clothes In the smoke for somewhat less than five

minutes, by which time the scent was gone, nor did
it ever reappear, even when the clothes were damp.
Personally I never have had occasion to try any of

these remedies.
The belief that skunk-bite Is likely to cause hy-
drophobia is common in the Southwest, and to some
extent it is borne out by the reports of army sur-
geons. A considerable number of soldiers and
plainsmen bitten by the spotted or rock skunk of
that region, which Is a particularly aggressive crea-
ture, have undoubtedly died of hydrophobia. Yet
the facts seem to be, as explained by W. Wade in
the American Naturalist, that although men and
other animals have been stricken mad by skunk-
bite and have died therefrom, still this has only
happened during an epidemic of rabies, in which
skunks, being slow-moving and utterly fearless
creatures, fell easy prey to rabid dogs or wolves.
Becoming mad, in their turn, they would bite men
sleeping in the open, and their bites would usually
be inflicted upon the men's faces, hands and other
exposed parts of their persons. In such cases, since
none of the poisonous saliva was wiped off by cloth-
ing, the result was almost certain death. But
rabies is very exceptional among skunks, and the
bite of a healthy animal is not a serious matter.
The best insurance against skunks and preda-
tory beasts in general is a good camp dog.
Wolverines. —
The wolverine, also called glut-
ton, carcajou, skunk bear, and Indian devil, Is the
champion thief of the wilderness. Lacking the
speed of most of his family, the weasel and nii^rter
tribe, and devoid of special means of defence such
as have been given the skunk and the porcupine, he
has developed a diabolic cunning, which, coupled
with his great strength and dogged persistence,
makes him detested beyond all other creatures lu
the wild Northland that he inhabits. He syste-
matically robs hunters of their game, trappers cf
—
their bait, and breaks into caches that defy almost
any other animal. If he finds more food than his
capacious paunch will hold, he defiles the rest so
that no beast, however hungry, will touch it. So
far as I know, the wolverine is practically extinct
in our country except in the northwestern States
bordering on Canada.
Other Camp Thieves. —The bushy-tailed
pack rat of the West is noted for carrying oft any
and everything that he can get away with, but the
eastern wood rats and wood mice seldom do much
damage about a camp beyond chewing up canvas
or other cotton goods to build nests with —
a trick
tiiat flying-squirrels also are prone to play.
I have never been, bothered by 'coons, although
"
living where they are abundant. But " Nessmuk
had a difterent experience. Many years ago he
told in Forest and Stream of his troubles with them
in northern Pennsylvania.
" Astrong cache ... is indispensable in this region, for

there not a night during the open season in which you
is
can lay by meat, fish, or butter, where hedgehogs and
'coons will not find it. Their strength and persistence in
digging out your larder is something surprising. I have
a butter cup with a tight-fitting cover, and a square tin
case for keeping pork, also with a tight cover. Time
and again I have had these tins raided by raccoons, nosed
around, wallowed in the mud, and moved yards away from
the cache; but the covers stuck like burs, and it must drive
a 'coon frantic to work half the night in unearthing a
butter cup, and then, wuth onh' one thickness of tin be-
tween his nose and the longed-for butter, be unable to
get a taste of it. Unless the 'coon dialect has plenty of
cuss-words I don't see how he could ever get over it"
CHAPTER XV
DRESSING AND KEEPING GAME
AND FISH
Butchering is the most distasteful part of a
hunter's work — a job to be sublet when you can;
but sometimes you can't.
When an animal is shot, the first thing to do is
to bleed unless the bullet itself has gone clean
it,
through and left a large hole of exit through which

much blood has drained.
Even birds and fish should be bled as soon as
secured. The meat keeps better, and, in the case
of a bird, the feathers are more easily plucked.
Speaking, now, of large game, do not drop your
gun and rush in on a dying beast to stick it, for it
might prove an ugly customer in its death struggle.
First put a bullet through its heart or spine.
To cut a deer's throat would ruin the head for
mounting. Twist its head to one side, with the
throat downhill, if possible, so that blood will not
flow over the hide; then stick your knife in at the
point of the breast, just in front of the sternum
or breastbone, and work the point of the knife two
or three inches back and forth, close up to the back-
bone, so as to sever the great blood-vessels. Then
if you must hurry on, perhaps after another animal,
toss some brush over the carcass, or hang a hand-

kerchief over it, to suggest a trap, and make a brush
blaze here and there as you go along, to guide you
back to the spot.
If practicable, remove the entrails at once. To
do this, it is not necessary to hang the animal up.
264
DRESSING GAME AND FISH 263
If you are in a hurry, or if the camp is not far away,

it will do merely to take out
the paunch and in-
testines but if this is neglected gas will accumulate
;
and putrefaction will soon set in. A bear, espe-
cially, ^vill soon because the fur keeps in the

spoil,
vital heat, so that the body will smoke

when opened,
even after it has lain a long time in hard-freezmg
weather.
If the animal is not to be butchered
on the spot,
stomach, using the
slit the skin only from vent
to
not to rupture
noint of the knife, and taking care
Sever the intestine at the rectum, cut
the paunch.
free, then cut off the gullet as high
the genitals
out.
as you can above the stomach, and pull all
The carcass should lie so that this is done toward
the downhill side.
too
Dragging a Deer.— If the ground is not
deer may be
rough, nor the distance too great, a
but drag
dragged to camp over the snow or
leaves;
it head-foremost; if
pulled the other way every hair
ground. Betore
will act as a barb against the
legs to the lower jaw. i he
starting, tie the front
hide will not be
carcass will slide easier, and the
so disfigured, if you first drop
a bush or small tree
roots, leaving a stub ot a
by cutting through the
root projecting for a handle,
jhen tie the animal
and drag away.
on the upper side of the bush,
Packing Deer on a Saddle.— To
pack a deei
horse is green in the
on horseback: first, if your
deer, pet him, and, it
business, let him smell the
carcass
necessary, blindfold him until you get the
may h^ve trouble^
lashed in place. Even then you
I have seen a mule get
such a conniption ht at the
himself, deer, and
smell of blood that he bucked
swift river; the girth
saddle, off a cut-bank into a
hvokt, and that saddle is going
yet.
to smear some ot the
deer s
It may be necessary
kill the scent
blood on your horse's nose to
If the animal is antlered, remove the head and
mak*^ a separate parcel of
it.
saddle, and, if the deer is too

Re-cinch your
266 -^
CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
heavy to lift upon the horse's back, fasten youi:
picket-rope to the deer's hind legs, throw the line
over the saddle, get on the other side, and haul
away until the deer's hocks are up even with the
saddle; then quickly snub the rope around the sad-
dle-horn, go around, swing the burden over the sad-
dle, balancing it evenly, and lash it fast. Or, if
you wish to ride, move the deer behind the saddle
and lash it there, bringing the legs forward on
either sideand tying them to the rings of the cinch.
For thongs, if the saddle has none, cut strips froin
the skin of the deer's fore legs. Be sure to fasten
the load securely, so that it cannot slip, or you
will have a badly frightened horse. By skinning
the legs from hoofs to ankles, partly disarticulat-
ing the latter, and then tying the legs snugly, they
will not dangle and scare the horse, nor catch in
underbrush.
Another way is to place the deer in the saddle
seat, back to horn, legs to rear. Tie one end of a
short rope to latigo ring, pass rope around deer
back of shoulders and once more through the ring.
Bring rope out in front of deer's breast, take a half
turn with it in rope back of shoulders, and pull all
tight. Take two half hitches on saddle horn. Re-
peat on opposite side, but bring rope up between
hind legs of deer, take the half turn, and fasten to
saddle horn as before. Now tie deer's head on top
of load. This method of packing is recommended
by W. G. Corker, who says '* no horse alive can
buck it off."
A simpler but secure way is to cut slits for thongs
above the hocks and knees and another slit along
the brisket. Place the deer on the saddle in such
manner that the saddle horn sticks through the slit
brisket. Tie down the legs at their middle joints
to the cinch-ring on each side. (Emerson Hough.)
Carrying on a Litter. —
Twô men can carry
a deer on a pole Ny tying its legs together in pairs,
slipping the pole through, and tying the head to the
onle. Unless the carcass is tied snugly ô the pole-
such a burden will swing like a pendulum as you
trudge along, especially if the pole is at all springy.
A more comfortable way is to make a litter of
two poles by laying them parallel, about two and
one-half feet apart, and nailing or tying cross-pieces
athwart the poles. Whittle the ends of the poles
to a size convenient for your hands, and fasten to
each end of the litter a broad strap, in such a way
that it may pass over the shoulders of the carrier
and thus take up much of the weight. Then lash
the animal securely to the top of the litter.
Carrying Single-handed. One man can —
carry a small deer entire by dragging it to a fallen
tree, boosting it up on the log, lengthwise and back
down, then grasping one or both hind legs with one
hand and the fore legs with the other, and carry-
ing the load so tha^ its weight is on the back of his
neck and shoulders.
Or you may prop the deer on the log breast
down, squat with back of your neck against the
body, put one arm under near front leg, the othej
under near hind leg, get the carcass on your shoul-
ders, and arise.
A better scheme is to cut a slit through the lower
jaw and up through the mouth, and another slit
through each of the legs between the tendons, just

above the hoof; tie the head and legs together, bm.
not too close, and then, by the loop thus formed,
swing the burden over your shoulder.
To carry a larger animal pickaback: gut it, cut
off the head and hang it up to be called for later,
skin the legs down to the knees and hocks, cut off
the shinbones, tie the skin of each fore leg to the
hind leg on the same side, put the arms through the
loops thus formed, and " git ep !" Or, remove the
bones from the fore legs from knee to foot, leaving
the feet on, tie the hind legs together and the fore
legs to them., thrust your head and one arm
through, and carry the burden as a soldier does a
blanket-roll.
The Indian Pack. — When one has a long way
to go, and can only carry the hide and the choicei
parts of the meat, the best way is to make up an
Indian pack, as shown in Fig. 114. Skin the deer,
place a stick athwart the inside of the skin, pack
Fig. 114 — Indian Deer Pack
the saddles, hams, and tid-bits in the latter, and

roll up and tie in a convenient bundle.
—
Hanging to Butcher. It is not necessary to
hang a deer up to skin and butcher it but that is;
the more cleanly way. One man, unassisted, can

hang a pretty heavy animal in the following way:
Drag headforemost to a sapling that is just lim-
it
ber enough to bend near the ground when you climb

it. Cut three poles, ten or twelve feet long, with
crotches near the ends. Climb the sapling and trim
off the top, leaving the stub of one stout branch
near the top. Tie your belt, or a stout withe or
flexible root, into a loop around the deer's antlers
or throat. Bend the sapling down until you can
slip the loop over the end of the sapling. The
latter, acting as a spring-pole, will lift part of the
deer's weight. Then place the crotches of the poles
under the fork of the sapling, butts of poles radiat-
ing outward, thus forming a tripod. First push
on one pole, then on another, and so raise the car-
cass free from the ground. If you do not intend
to butcher it immediately, raise it up out of reach
gf roving dogs and " varmints."
Itcommon practice to hang deer by gambrels

Is
with the head down but, when hung head up, the
;
animal is easier to skin and to butcher, drains bet-

ter, and does not drop blood and juices over the
head and neck, which you may want to have
mounted for a trophy. Dried blood is very hard
to remove from hair or fur. If the skin is stripped
ol^ from rear it will be hard to grain.
to head And
if the animal not to be skinned for some time it
is
is best hung by the head, because the slope of the
hair then sheds rain and snow instead of holding

them, and the lung cavity does not collect blood,
rain, or snow.
The more common way of skinning a deer, when
the head is not wanted for mounting, is to hang
it up by one hind leg and begin skinning at the
hock, peeling the legs, then the body, and finally

the neck, then removing the head with skin on (for
baking in a hole), after which the carcass is swung
by both legs and is eviscerated.
If there is no time to hang the deer, open It,
throw the entrails well off to one side, then cover
the carcass with boughs as if it were a trap, or
hang a handkerchief, or the blown-up bladder of
the animal, over it, to scare away marauders.
Place the deer so it will drain downhill. And
don't neglect to blaze your way out, so you can
find it again.
Butchering Deer. — Now let us suppose that
you have killed a deer far away from camp, and
that you wish to skin and butcher it on the spot,
saving all parts of it that are good for anything.
You are alone. You wish to make a workmanlike
job of it. You carry only the choicer parts with
you that evening, and must fix the rest so it will
not be molested overnight.
Of course, you have a jack-knife, and either a
pocket hatchet or a big bowie-knife probably the —
latter, if this is your first trip. First hang the
deer, described above.
as By the time you are
through cutting those poles with the knife your
hand will ache between thumb and forefinger; a
tomahawk would have been better.
Skinning. —
This is your first buck, and you
-
wish to save the head for mounting. For this the

skin of the whole neck must be preserved, clear
back to the shoulders. Cleanse away any blood
that may have issued from the nose and mouth, and
stuff some dry moss, or other absorbent, in the 1
beast's mouth. Stick your big knife into a log
alongside; it is only to look at, for the present.
Open your jack-knife, insert the point, edge up,
where the neck joins the back, and cut the skin in
a circle around the base of the neck, running from
the withers dow^n over the front of the shoulder-
blade to the brisket or point of the breast on each
side. Do not skin the head at present you may —
not have time for that. Insert the point of the
knife through the skin over the paunch, and, fol-
lowing the middle line of the chest, slit upward
to meet the cut around the neck. Then reverse,
and continue the slit backward to the end of the
tail,being careful not to perforate the walls of the
belly. Then slit along the inside of each leg from
the hoof to the belly-slit. If you wish to save the
feet for mounting, be particular to rip the skin in
a straight line up the under side of the leg, start-
ing by inserting the point of the knife between
the heel-pads.
Now comes a nice trick, that of severing the
shanks. Nearly every inexperienced person starts
too high. Study the accompanying illustrations
Fig. 115 — The Place toUse Your Knife. From Forest

and Stream
{)i these joints, noting where the arrow points,
'*^hich is the place to use your knife. In a
;
deer the joint is about an inch and a half below

the hock on the hind leg, and an inch below the
knee on the fore leg. Cut square across through
skin and muscles, in front, and similarly behind
then, with a quick pull backward against your knee,
snap the shank off. The joint of the fore leg is
broken in a similar manner, excepting that it is
snapped forward.
Having stripped the vertebrae from the tail, now
peel the skin off the whole animal, from the shoul-
ders downward, assisting with your closed fist, and,
where necessary, with the knife; but wherever the
knife used be careful to scrape the skin as clean
is
as you can, without cutting it, for every adhering

bit of fat, flesh, or membrane must be thoroughly
removed before the skin is ready for tanning, and
that is easier to do now than after it dries. The
whole operation of skinning is much easier while
the animal is still warm than after the body has
become cold. To skin a frozen animal is a des-
perately mean job. I have known four old hunters
to work nearly a whole afternoon in skinning a

frozen bear.
The skin of the body and limbs having been re-
moved, stretch it out flat, hair side down, along-
side ofyou to receive portions of the meat as it is
butchered.
Gralloching. — Now take up your big knife,
insert its point alongside the breastbone, and cut
through the false ribs to the point of the sternum.
In a young animal this is eas}-; but in an old one
the ribs have ossified, and you must search for the
soft points of union between the ribs and the ster-
num, which rather
are hard to find. Here your
knife's temper, and perhaps your own, will be put
to the test. The most trifling-looking pocket
hatchet would do the trick in a jiffy.
Open the abdominal cavity, taking care not to
rupture anything, and prop the chest open a few
inches with a stick, or by merely pulling the ribs
away from each other. Cut the diaphragm free
at both sides and at the back. (It ^'s the mem-
brane that separates the organs of the :hest from
those of the abdomen.) Everything now is free
from the body except at the throat and anus.
Reach in and take in your grasp all the vessels
that run up into the neck. With knife in the other
hand, cut them across from above downward, tak-
ing care that you do not cut yourself. Now pull
away gradually, helping a little here and there with
the knife until all the contents of the visceral cav-
ity lie at your feet, save the lower end of the rec-
tum, which is still attached. With a hatchet, if
you had one. you would now split the pelvis. The
thing can be done with a large knife, if the animal
is not too old, by finding the soft suture at the high-
est part of the bone and rocking the knife-edge on

it. But you may not be able to accomplish this
just now. So reach in with the jack-knife, cut
carefully around the rectum and urinary organs,
keeping as close to the bone as possible, and free
everything from the cavity. If water is near, wash
out the cavity and let it drain, or wipe with a dry
cloth if 5ôu have one. Be particular to leave no
clotted blood.
To remove the head ; back the skin for sev-
flay
eral inches at base of neck, cut through flesh, etc.,
to the backbone. Search along this till you find
the flat joint between the faces of two vertebrae,
separate these as far as you can then twist the at-
;
tached part of the body round and round, until it

breaks off.
Directions how to skin a head for mounting are
given in Volume II.
In butchering, save the liver, heart, brain, milt
(spleen), kidneys, and the caul fat. The caul is
the fold of membrane loaded with fat that covers
most of the intestines. In removing the liver you
need not bother about a gall-bladder, for a deer
has none. Many a tenderfoot has been tricked
into looking for it. In the final cutting up, save
the marrow-bones (especially of elk) for eating;
the ligaments that lie on either side of the back-

bone, from the head backward, for sinew thread i
the hoofs for glue (if you are far from supply-
stores and expect to remain a good w^hile) and ;
perhaps the bladder, paunch, large intestine, and

pericardium (outer skin) of the heart, for pouches
and receptacles of various kinds, and to make cat-
gut. The scrotum of a buck, tanned with the hair
on, makes a good tobacco-pouch.
Butchering on the Ground. If one Is in a —
hurry, and Is not particular about the hide, he can
do his butchering on the ground. In that case,
lay the animal on sloping ground, with its head
uphill or bend its back over a log or rock or turn
; ;
It on Its back with its head twisted around and
wedged under one side. The old-time way of

butchering a buffalo was to turn the carcass on Its
belly, stretching out the legs on either side to sup-
port It. A transverse cut was made at the nape
of the neck; then theworkman, gathering the long
hair of the hump one hand, separated the skin
in
from the shoulder, laid It open to the tail, along
the spine, freed It from the sides, and pulled It
down to the brisket. While the was thus

skin
still attached to the belly It was stretched upon
the ground to receive the dissected meat. Then
the shoulder was severed, and the fleece, which is
the mixed fat and lean that lies along the loin and
ribs, was removed from along the backbone, and
the hump ribs were cut off with a tomahawk.
These portions were placed on the skin, together
with the boudins from the stomach, and the tongue.
The rest of the meat was left to feed the wolves.
—
Elk and Moose. Such large animals are gen-
erally butchered on the ground. If the beast has
antlers, first remo^ê the head.Then turn the body
on its back and prop it in position with a couple
of three-foot stakes sharpened at both ends, a hole
being dug for a moose's withers. Sometimes only
the haunches, sirloins and tongue are saved, these
being cut away without skinning or gutting the
carcass.
If there is a horse, or several men with a rope,
to elevate the body, the animal's lower legs are

skinned, the shanks removed, the hide split from
throat tail, the sides skinned free, the windpipe
'
o
and p'jllet raised, the pleura and diaphragm cut
loose and the carcass then raised high enough so
that the hide can be removed from the rump and
back. The rectum, small intestines, and paunch
are then loosened and allowed to roll out on the
ground. The
gullet is cut, the liver taken out,
and the diaphragm, lungs and heart removed.
Then the skinning Is finished over the shoulders
and fore legs.
It is best not to cut up the meat until It Isquite
cold and firm. Then split the carcass in halves
along the backbone, and quarter it, leaving one rib
on each hind quarter. The meat may then be put
on a scaffold, and covered wîth the skin to pro-
tect it from moose-birds.
Two men can raise a very heavy animal clear
of the ground with three stiff poles, say twelve feet
long, which are sharpened at the butts and notched
at the tips. Lay these on the ground with notched
ends together over the animal's hind quarters and
the sharpened ends radiating outward and equi-
distant from each other. Tie the notched ends
rather loosely together with a short piece of rope,
the other end of which Is tied to a gambrel thrust
through the hind legs under the hamstrings (or
attach to antlers, nose, or through lower jaw).
Lift the tripod until the rope is taut, shove one
pole forward a few Inches, then another, sticking
the butts In the ground as you progress, until the
hindquarters are raised, and so on until the beast
swings free.
Bears. —
These beasts, too, are generally butch'
ered on the ground. In skinning, begin the In-
cisions at the feet, and leave at least the scalp, If
not the skin of the whole head, attached. It I?
quite a task to skin a bear, as the beast usually is
covered with fat, which adheres to the hide and

must be scraped free. All of the caul fat should
be saved for rendering into bear's oil, which is
better and wholesomer than lard. The brain,
liver, and milt (spleen) are good eating.
Owing to its greasiness, the skin of a bear is
very likely to spoil unless carefully scraped, espe-

cially at the ears. Slit the ears open on the inside,
skin them back almost to the edge, and fill with
salt; also salt the base of the ears. The feet like-
wise must be skinned out and well salted.
Preserving Skins. —
If a hide is to be pre-
served for some time in a green state, use nothing
on it but salt. Spread it out flat, hair side down,
stretch the legs, rub all parts
flanks, etc., and
thoroughly with salt, particular pains being taken
to leave no little fold untreated. moose-hide A
will take ten or even fifteen pounds of salt. As
soon as the salting is done, fold in the legs and
roll the hide up.
Methods of tanning, and of making buckskin
and rawhide, will be discussed in Volume II.
—
Care of Meat. When a deer has merely
been eviscerated and is hung up to be skinned, and
cut up at a more convenient season, prop open the
abdomJnal cavity with a stick, so that it may dry
out quickly. the weather is warm enough at
If
any hour of the day for flies to come out, keep a
smudge going under the carcass.* It takes flies
but a few minutes to raise Ned with venison. If
blows are discovered on the meat, remove them,

looking especially at all folds and nicks in the
meat, and around the bones, for the blows work
into such places very quickly. So long as they
have not bored into the flesh they do it no harm,
A
surer way is described by Doctor Breck:
* This means in ramp, where there is someone to look after
it. Do not leave a smudge to take care of itself out in the

woods: a wind springing up in your absence may cause it to
set the forest afire.
— —
" It is my practice to carry with me three or four yard's
of cheesecloth (which has been dipped in alum-water at
home), and this I wrap closely round whatever parts of
the animal I especially wish to preserve. If a round of
venison is thus done up, preferably with a needle and
thread, it is safe from fly-blows, which are the bane of
hunters. If unskinned, a head may also be kept clean in
like manner. The cheesecloth takes up little more room
than a napkin, and amply repays the small bulge in the
coat-pocket." The Way of the Woods.
always carry cheesecloth on fishing trips, too.

I
may be said here that even smoked bacon is
It
not immune from blows, and it should not be hung
up without a cheesecloth cover. The fly that
blows meats is the common ''
blue-bottle." Its
eggs hatch into " skippers" within twelve hours.
—
Curing Venison. Venison keeps a long time
without curing, if the climate is cool and dry.
To cure a deer's ham, hang it up by the shank,
divide the muscles just above the hock, and insert
a handful of dry salt. The meat of the deer tribe
gets more tender and better flavored the longer it
is hung up. In warm weather dust flour all over

a haunch or saddle of venison, sew
up in a loose it
bag of cheesecloth, and hang it in a shady place

where there is a current of air. It will keep sweet
for several weeks, if there is no crevice in the bag
through which insects can penetrate. Ordinarily
it is best not to salt meat, for salt draws the juices.
Bear meat, however, requires much salt to cure it —

more than any other game animal.
Hornaday recommends the following recipe for
curing venison :
The proportions of the mixture I use are:
Salt 3 lbs.
Allspice 4 table-spoonfuls.
Black Pepper 5 table-spoonfuls,
all thoroughly mixed.
Take a ham of deer, elk, or mountain sheep, or fall-

killed mountain goat, and as soon as possible after kill-
ing, dissect the thigh, muscle by muscle. Any one can
learn to do this by following up with the knife the natural
divisions between the muscles. With big game like elk,
some of the muscles of the thigh are so thick they require
to be split in two. A
piece of meat should not exceed
five inches in thickness. Skin off all enveloping mem-
branes, so that the curative powder will come in direct
contact with the raw, moist flesh. The flesh must be suf-
ficiently fresh and moist that the preservative will readily
adhere to it. The best size for pieces of meat to be cured
by this process is not over a foot long, by six or eight
inches wide and four inches thick.
When each piece has been neatly and skilfully prepared
rub the powder upon every part of the surface, and let
the mixture adhere as much as it will. Then hang up each
piece of meat, by a string through a hole in the smaller
end, and let it dry in the wind. If the sun is hot, keep
the meat in the shade; but in the North the sun helps the
process. Never let the meat get wet. If the weather is
rainy for a long period, hang your meat rack where it
will get heat from the campfire, but no more smoke than
is unavoidable, and cover it ai night with a piece of can-
vas.
Meat thus prepared is not at its best for eating until
it is about a month old then slice it thin. After that
;
no sportsman, or hunter, or trapper can get enough of

it. . . .
No;
this is not "jerked" meat. It is many times better.
It isalways eaten uncooked, and as a concentrated, stimu-
lating food for men in the wilds it is valuable.
{Camp-fires in the Canadian Rockies, 201-203.)
It is a curious fact that blow-Hies work close

to the ground, and will seldom meddle with meat
that is hung more than ten feet above the ground.
Game or fish suspended at a height of twenty feet
will be immune from " blows," if hung on a
trimmed sapling well away from any foliage.
Jerked Venison. —
" jerky " or jerked meat
" jerk."
has nothing to do with our common word
It is an anglicized form of the Spanish charqui,
which is itself derived from the Quichua (Peru-
vian) ccharqui, meaning flesh cut in flakes and
dried without salt. It is the same as the African
biltong. Those who have not investigated the
matter may be surprised to learn that the round
of beef is 61 per cent, water, and that even the
common dried and smoked meat of the butchei
shoos contains 54 per cent, water. To condense
—
278 CAAIPING AND WOODCRAFT'
the nutritive properties of these substances, the
water, of course, must be exhausted. In ordinary
dried beef this Is onl)^ partially done, because the
pieces are too thick.
In the dry air of uninhabited plains, meat does
not putrefy, even w^hen unsalted, and It may be
dried In the sun, without fire. Elk flesh dried In
the sun does not keep as well as that of deer.
As I have said, real jerky has been dried with-
out salt; but It Is common practice nowadays to
use some salt In the process, proceeding as fol-
lows :
If you can afford to be particular, select only the

tender parts of the meat; otherwise use all of the
lean. Cut it In strips about half an inch thick.
If you have time, you may soak them a day In
strong brine. If not, place the flakes of meat on
the inside of the hide, and mix with them about a
pint and a half of salt for a w^hole deer, or two or
three quarts for an elk or moose; also some pep-
per. These condiments are not necessary, but are
added merely for seasoning. Cover the meat with
the hide, to keep flies out, and let It stand thus for
about two hours to let the salt work In. Then
drive four forked stakes In the ground so as to
form a square, the forks being about four feet
from the ground. Lay two poles across from
fork to fork, parallel, and across these lay thin
poles about two Inches apart. Lay the strips of
meat across the poles, and under them build a small
fire to dry and smoke the meat. Do not let the
fire get hot enough to cook the meat, but only to
dehydrate it, so that the flesh becomes dry as a
chip. The best fuel Is birch, especially black birch,
because It imparts a pleasant flavor. Only a thin
smoke wanted. To confine It, if a breeze Is
is
stirring, put up some sort of wind-break. This

will reduce the weight of the meat about one-half,
and will cure It so that It will keep indefinitel}^
You may have to keep up the fire for twenty-foui
hnurs. The meat of an old bull will, of course,
be as tough as sole leather; but, in any case, it
will retain its and sustenance. When
flavor
pounded pretty fine, jerky makes excellent soup;
but it is good enough as it is, and a man can live
on it exclusively without suffering an inordinate
craving for bread.
^
The breasts (only) of grouse and other game
birds can be cured in the same way, and are good.
Some do not like their meat smoked. way A
of jerking without smoking was described by " an
old-timer" for the New York Sun:
" Cut the choicest of the meat into strips ten Inches long
and two inches square. Sprinkle them quite liberally with
salt, but not enough to make them bitter. Let the salt work
on them for a couple of hours. While it is doing it you go
and put down two logs a foot or so in diameter side by
side and about the same distance apart. Between the
logs make a fire of dry hemlock bark.
" Hemlock, or a relative of hemlock, is always apt to
be found in deer hunting regions, and I never go into
camp without taking pains to gather up a lot of hemlock
bark for use. It is the best material for the purpose be-
cause it will make a fire of hot coals without running to
blaze or smoke. Birch bark would be ideal for the purpose,
but it is all blaze with birch bark. Hickory wood couldn't
be beat for jerking venison, but hickory wood would smoke
the meat, and jerked venison isn't smoked venison, as a
good many folks suppose it is, not by a long shot.
" Having got your bed of hemlock bark coais in fine
shape, and having driven at the inside edge of the ends
of each log a crotched stick long enough after it is securely
driven to have the crotch perhaps a foot above the logs,
and having extended from crotch to crotch in these sticks
two poles that are thus suspended above the fire, cut as
many half inch hardwood sticks as you need, long enough
to reach across from one pole to another and rest securely
on them. On these sticks string your strips of deer meat
by thrusting them through the meat near one end of the
strips, the sticks being sharpened at one end to facilitate
that operation.
" This will leave the strips hanging from their sticks
much as the candles used to hang from theirs in the old
fashioned moulds, if any hunter of this generation is happy
enough to have recollections of the days when we made
our own candles. Place the sticks with their pendent meat
over the coals. Turn the concave sides of lengths of hem-
lock bark over the top of the sticks. This will keep in the
zSo CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
steam that will presently begin to rise from the meat, as
the coals get their gradual but effective work in on it.
Keep the fire down there between the logs so it won't make
too rapid a heat, for if it does the juice will ooze out of
the meat and be lost, and that wou'd detract from the
excellence of the finished product.
" If during the process of jerking your venison the meat
is taken off the coals before it is done it will be soft and
flabby. If it is hard when taken off it will be overdone.
In either case your jerked venison might much better have
remained unjerked, for it will be a failure. To prevent
either of these catastrophes the meat should be tested fre-
quently by pushing a sharp knife blade or other convenient
probe into and through the strips. The moment it requires
more than ordinary force to push the probe through, your
venison is thoroughly and properly jerked. Then shove
the coals from under the strips and let them cool with the
dying embers."
Computing Weight. — Hornaday gives the

following rule, in his Natural History, for com-
puting the live weight of deer from the dressed
weight: Add five ciphers to the dressed weight
in pounds, and divide by 78,612; the quotient will
be the live weight in pounds.
—
Small Mammals. Now for what Shake-
speare calls " small deer." The easiest way for a
novice to skin a squirrel is the one described by
" Nessmuk." —
"Chop off head, tail, and feet with the hatchet;
cut the skin on the back crosswise, and, inserting
the two middle fingers, pull the skin off in two
parts (head and tail). Clean and cut the squir-
rel in halves, leaving two ribs on the hind quar-
ters." The objection is that, in this case, you
throw away the best part of the squirrel, the cheek
meat and brain being its special tid-bits.
A betterway is this: Sever the tail from be-
low, holding your left forefinger close in behind
it, and cutting through the vertebrae close up to the
body, leaving only the hide on the top side. Then

turn the squirrel over and cut a slit down along
each ham. Put your foot on the tail, hold the
rear end of the squirrel in your hand, and pull,
stripping the skin off to the fore legs. Peel the
:
skin from the hind legs, and cut off the feet, l^.en
cut off the fore feet. Skin to the neck; assist here
a little with the knife; then skin to the ears; cut
off the butts of the ears; then skin till the blue o^
the eyeballs shows, and cut; then to the nose till
the teeth show, and cut It off. Thus you get no
hair on the meat, and the w^hole thing is done in
less than a minute, when you have gained deftness.
In dressing mammals larger than squirrels be
particular to remove the scent glands. Even rab-
bitshave them. Cut directly between the fore leg
and body and you will find a small waxy " kernel "
which is a The degree to which this
gland.
taints the flesh depends a good deal on the season;
but in most of the fur-bearers it is always ob-
jectionable.
Dan Beard gives the following directions for
dressing small animals
" To prepare a musquash or any other small fur-bearing

animal for the table, first make a skinning stick of a forked
stick about as thick as your finger. Let the forks be about
one inch to each branch, and the stick below long enough
to reach up between your knees when the sharpened lower
end is forced into the ground. If you squat on the ground
the stick should be about a foot and one-half long, but
longer if you sit on a camp stool, stump or stone. Hang the
muskrat on the forks of the stick by thrusting the sharp-
ened ends of the fork through the thin spot at the gambrel
joints of the hind legs, that is, the parts which coriespond
with your own heels. Hung in this manner (with the one
and one-half foot stick), the nose of the animal will just
clear the ground. First skin the game, then remove all the
internal organs, and, if it be a muskrat, not only remove
all the musk glands, but cut into the inside of the forearms
and the fleshy part of the thighs, and take out a little white
substance you will find there which resembles a nerve.
This done and the meat well washed, it may be cooked
with little fear of the food retaining a musky llavor."
— {Field and Forest Handy Book.)
To a 'coon: begin with the point of the

skin
knife in the center of one hind foot and slit up
the inside of the leg to the vent and dou'n the
other leg in a like manner. Cut carefully around
the vent, then rip from it up to the chin. Strip
the skin from the bone of the tail with a split stick
gripped firmly in the hand. Then flay the ani-
mal, scrape the pelt clean, and put it on a stretcher
to dry.
Dressing Birds. —Turkeys, geese, ducks, and
grouse are usually dry picked. If this could be
done while the bodies were still warm, it would
be no job at all; but after they are cold it generally
results in a good deal of laceration of the skin —
so much so that sometimes the disgusted operator
gives up and skins the whole bird. It would be
better to scald them first, like chickens. In dry
picking, hang the bird up by one leg, pluck first
the pinions and tail feathers; then the small
feathers from shanks and inside of thighs; then
the others. Grasp only a few feathers at a time
between finger and thumb, as close to the skin as
possible, and pull quickly toward the head. Then.
pick cut all pin-feathers and quills. Singe the
down off quickly, so as not to give an oily appear-
ance to the skin. Ordinarily the down can be re-
moved from a duck's breast by grasping the bird
by the neck and giving one sweep of the open hand
down one side of the body and then one down the
other. In plucking geese or ducks some use finely
powdered res'n to remove the pin-feathers. The
bird is plucked dry, then rubbed all over with the
resin, dipped in and out of boiling water seven or
eight times, and then the pin-feathers and down
are easily rubbed off.
To draw a bird: cut off the head, and the legs
at the first joint. Make a lengthwise slit on back
at base of neck and sever neck bone close to body,
also the membrane which holds the windpipe-
Make a lengthwise incision from breastbone tc
(and around) the vent, so you can easily draw
the insides, which must be done carefully, so as
not to rupture the gall-bladder (pheasants have
none).
The idea that ducks and other game birds should
hang until they smell badly is monstrous. If you
DRESSING GAME AND FISH 2«3
want to know where such tastes originated, read the
annals of medieval sieges.
Small game birds, such as snipe and plover, can
be cleaned very quickly by pressing a thumb on
each side of their breasts, and, with a swift push,
break the skin back, carrying feathers, backbone
and entrails with it, and leaving only the breast.
Grouse can be treated in the same way if the skin
of the breast is first slit. The legs and rump, if
wanted, can be removed separately.
Keeping Small Game. — To ship rabbits,
squirrels,etc. do not skin them, but remove the
:
entrails,wipe the insides perfectly dry, wrap m

paper, and pack them back dc^^'n.
Never pack birds in straw or grass without ice,
for in damp or warm weather this will heat or
sweat them. If they freeze they must be kept so, as
they will quickly spoil after thawing. Food in a
bird's crop soon sours; the crop should be removed.
j
To preserve birds in warm weather for ship-
ment: draw them, wash the inside perfectly clean,
dry thoroughly, and then take pieces of charcoal
from the fireplace, wrap them in a thin rag, and
fill the abdominal cavity with this. Also fill the
bill, ears, eyes, and anal opening with powdered
charcoal, to keep off flies and prevent putrefac-

tion. Reject all pieces of charcoal that are only
half-burnt or have the odor of creosote. Birds
stuffed in this way will keep sweet for a week in
hot weather.
Cleaning Trout. —
Brook trout have no no-
:iceable scales, but they should be scraped free of
ilime. Rainbow trout need scaling.
Remove the vent, cut the gills free from the
lower jaw and back of head, and slit open fôm
iiead to anal fin. Draw the inside out by the
gills, and scrape the clotted blood away fio.n the
backbone. If the fish are only for the pan, not to

be exhibited, cut the heads off; then they are easier
to clean. Large ones, anyway^ should have heads
and tails cut off before fryingj^
A small trout may be cleaned without splitting,
by cutting out the vent, tearing out the gills with
the fingers, and drawing the entrails with them.
—
Cleaning Scaly Fish. To scale a fish: grasp
it by the head (or lay it on a board and drive a
fork through its tail), and, using a knife that is
not over-keen, scale first one side and then the
other, with swift, steady sweeps. The scales be-
low the gills, and those near the fins, are removed
by moving the point of the knife crosswise to
the fish's length. place the knife just below
Next
the belly fin and with a slant stroke cut ofE
this, the side fins, and the head, all in one piece.
Then remove the back fin, and the spines beneath
it, by making a deep incision on each side of the
fin and pulling the latter out. The ventral part

is removed in the same way. Open the fish, wash
it in cold water, scrape off the slime, and then wipe
it dry with a clean cloth or towel. Large fish, for

broiling, should be split open along the back and
the spine removed.
A special fish knife, with saw-tooth back for
scaling, can be bought at a sporting-goods store.
A good scaler is extemporized by nailing a com-
mon bottle cap on the flattened end of a stick.
A slippery, flabby fish is more easily handled for
scaling if you sharpen one end of a stick as thick
as your little finger and run it down through the
fish's mouth about two-thirds the length of the
body.
Fish taken from muddy or mossy water, or from
cedar swamps, taste strong if cleaned in the ordi-
nary way, unless special precautions are taken in
cooking (see Chapter XVIII). The taint is not
removed by scaling, for its cause is hidden deep in.
the roots of the scales. Such fish should be skinned.
That is also the best way to prepare yellow perch.
Skinning Fish. —
Grasp the fish firmly, belly
down. Cut across the nape of the neck, run the
Domt of the knife along the back to the tail, and
DRESSING GAME AND FISH 2B5
on each side of the back fin.Remove the fin by
catching lower end between thumb and knife blade
and pulling smartly upward toward the head.
Skin each side by seizing between thumb and knife
the flap of skin at nape and jerking outward and
downward; then the rest, by grasping skin as near
the vent as possible and tearing quickly down to
the tail, bring away the anal fin. Remove the
head and the entrails will come with it. Trout
and pickerel should be scraped free of slime.
Large fish for frying are best steaked. Robert
Pinkerton gives the following directions:
" Cut off the head, run the knife down either side of the
oones of the back the entire length. Cut down to the back-
bone and continue along the ribs. This gives you two slabs
of boneless meat and leaves the entrails in the skeleton.
Lay the pieces, skin side down, on a paddle blade and run
a sharp knife between the flesh and skin. You now have
Joneless, scaleless, skinless fish, which may be rolled in
flour or cornmeal, fried in bacon grease, and eaten with as
little difficulty as though it were moose steak."
To skina catfish or bullhead, do not scald it,

for that makes the meat flabby and robs it of its
fresh flavor. Cut off the ends of the spines, slit
the skin behind and around the head, and then
from this point along the back to the tail, cutting
around the back fin. Then peel the two corners
of the skin well down, sever the backbone, and,
holding to the corners of the skin with one hand,
pull the fish's body free from the skin with the
other. A pair of pliers will be appreciated here.
Or, cut through the skin clear around the neck
near the gills. Stick a large table fork into the
gills and pin the fish to a board by its backbone.
Then catch the skin at neck between thumb and
knife-blade, and .strip it off by a steady pull.
To skin an eel: drive a fork through the back
of his neck (if you have no fork, roll him in ashes
or dust and use a swab in the left hand), slit the
skin around his neck with a sharp knife, make a
;

longitudinal slit half the length of the body, peel
the skin back at the neck until you get a good hold,
and then strip it off.
Another way is to rub the tail under your foot
until the skin splits, or nail the eel up by the tail,
cut through the skin around the body just for-
ward of the tail and work its edges loose, then
draw the skin off over the head this takes out ;
all ofthe fin bones, and strips off the skin entire.
—
To Keep Fish. It is very bad practice to
string fish together through the gills and keep
them in water till you start for home. It makes
them lose blood and torments them till they die
of suffocation. Why sicken your fish before you
eat them? you must use a stringer, push its
If
point through the fish's lower jaw. Then it can
breathe freely. A single fish on a good length of
line, strung in this way, can fight off turtles till
you notice the commotion.
If you are not fishing from a boat, with live
box or net, then by all means kill your fish as
fast as you catch them. Some do this by giving
the thing's head a quick jerk backward, breaking
its neck others hit it a smart rap on the back of
;
the head with the handle of a sheath-knife (many

English fishermen carry a " priest," which is a
miniature bludgeon, for this very purpose). It is
better to break the fish's throat-latch (the cord
that joins head to body on the under side), because
that not only kills the fish but bleeds it, and one's
finger does thr. trick in a second.
The reason for killing fish at once is two-fold
first, it is humane second, it keeps the meat firm,
;
as it should be for the pan, and it will not spoil

so soon as if the fish smothered to death.
Fish spoil from exposure to sun and moisture,
especially the latter. They keep much better if
wiped dry before carrying away. Never use fish
that have been lying in the sun or that have begun
to soften. Ptomaines work in a mysterious but
effectual way.
Tokeep fish in camp: scale, behead, and clean

them then string them by a cord through their
;
tails and hang them, head down, in a shady, breezy

place. They drain well when hung in this way,
and that is important.
If you stay long in one place, it will pay to sink
a covered box in the sloping bank of a stream, tq
keep your fish in. Such a bank is always cool,
Hang the up separately in the box with rod?
fish
or cords. you lack a box, make a rock-lined
If
cache, covered with flat stones tu keep out mini;
and other robbers.
Trout may be kept bright, with their spots show^
ing lively, for many hours, if each is wîped and
wrapped separately in some absorbent paper, such
as toilet paper, as soon as caught.
To keep fish that must be carried some distance,
in hot weather: clean them as soon as you can after
they are caught, and zuipe them dry. Then rub
a little salt along their backbones, but nowhere
else, for salt draws the juices. Do not pile them
touching each other, but between layers of paper,
cheesecloth, basswood leaves, or ferns.
If you are to pack fish in ice, the best way is to
have with you some parchment paper (any mail-
order house) to keep them from direct contact with
the ice. This paper is strong and waterproof.
Everybody ought to know that when fish get wet
from ice the best of their flavor is stolen. For
the same reason it is bad practice to carry fish in
damp moss or grass. Keep them dry, whether 3ûu
have ice or not.
There
is a very good thing called a refrigerator
grip, be bought of dealers in sporting goods.

to
Outside it looks like a common handbag. Within
are two metal compartments. The upper section
is with cracked ice and the cover is screwed
filled
on. The lowerone contains food and drink for
an outing, and holds your fish on the trip home.
It is surrounded by a metal shell into which the
—
water drips as the ice melts. No ice or water
comes in contact with what you carry.
If you have no ice, and yet wish to transport
your catch a considerable distance, try the follow-
ing method recommended a good many years ago
by Colonel Park (he says It is also a good way to
pack venison). Some of my correspondents have
enthusiastically given me credit for inventing it,
but I got it out of a little Sportsmen s Handbook
by the above-named gentleman, printed, as I re-
member, In Cincinnati, of which I have seen but
one copy. For brevity's sake, I paraphrase the
description.
Kill the fish as soon as caught; wipe them clean and dry;
remove the entrails; scrape the blood off from around the
backbone; remove the gills and eyes; wipe dry again;
split the fish through the backbone to the skin, from the
inside; fill this split with salt; spread the fish overnight
on a board or log to cool. In the morning, before sun-
rise, fold the fish in dry towels, so that there is a fold of
towel between each fish and its neighbor; carefully wrap
the whole package in a piece of muslin, and sew it up into
a tight bag, and then in woolen blanketing, sewing up the
ends and sides. Now
put the roll in a stout paper bag,
such as a flour sack. " Fish prepared in this way can be
sent from Maine to New Orleans in August, and will re-
main fresh and nice."
Sugar, as It has antiseptic qualities, is a good

preservative. Doctor O. M. Clay gives the fol-
lowing process for keeping trout a week or two:
"Clean well; remove heads; wash thoroughly; dry with
cloth. Cook a syrup of sugar and water until it begins to
candy. In this dip the fish, one at a time, and lay them on
a board to glaze. Pack in a box. Before using, soak over-
night in cold water."
To dry fish for future use: split them along the

back, remove the backbones and entrails,and soak
them in a weak brine overnight. Make a conical
teepee of cloth or bark, suspend the fish in it, and
dry and smoke them over a small fire for a couple
of days. This Is tedious, as the fire requires close
attention; but it pays when many fish are to be

dried.
To salt dress them as above, wash clean,
fish:
and " Place them in a wooden vessel
roll in salt.
in a cool place for several days; then turn them
out and let the brine drain off. Clean the vessel
and put the fish back. Cover them with brine
made strong enough to carry an egg or potato.
Trout preserved in this way are excellent." (E.
Kreps, Camp and Trail Methods.)
The following method of preserving fish is
quoted from Outdoor Life:
" Put two handfuls of salt in two or three quarts of
water. Let it come to a boil. Then put fish on a piece
of cheesecloth or other white cloth so as to be able to
handle them, and dip them in this water, allowing them
to remain in it five to seven minutes, according to size of
fish. Water should not boil after the fish are put in. Then
put them in vinegar, allspice, cloves and bay leaves us-—
ing enough vinegar to submerge the fish. Leave them in
this solution until used. We
believe you will find fish pre-
served in this way the sweetest-tasting that you ever ate."
CHAPTER XVI
CAMP COOKERY
Meats
The main secrets of good meals in camp are
to have a proper fire, good materials, and then to
imprison in each dish, at the outset, its natural
juiceand characteristic flavor. To season fresh
camp dishes as a French chef would is a blunder
of the first magnitude. The raw materials used
in city cuisine are often of inferior quality, from
keeping in cold storage or with chemical preserva-
tives so their insipidity must be corrected by spices,
;
herbs, and sauces to make them eatable. In cheap

restaurants and boarding houses, where the chef's
skill is lacking, " all things taste alike " from hav-
ing been penned up together in a refrigerator and
cooked in a fetid atmosphere.
In my chapter on Provisions I advised that a
few condiments be taken along, but these are
mostly for seasoning left-overs or for desserts —
not for fresh meat, unless we have but one kind,
to the surfeiting point. In the woods our fish is
freshly caught, our game has hung out of doors,
and the water and air used in cooking (most im-
portant factors) are sweet and pure. Such viands
need no masking. The only seasoning required
is with pepper and salt, to be used sparingly, and
not added (except in soups and stews) until the

dish is nearly or quite done. Remember this: salt
draws the juices.
The of meats and fish are their most
juices
palatable and nutritious ingredients. extract We
them purposely In making soups, stews, and gravies^
2Q0
MEATS 291
but in so doing we ruin the meat itself. Any fisK,

flesh, or fowl that is fit to be eaten for the good
meat's sake should be cooked succulent, by first
coagulating the outside (searing in a bright flame
or in a very hot pan, or plunging into smoking hot
grease or furiously boiling water) and then remov-
ing farther from the fire to cook gradually till
done. The first process, which is quickly per-
formed, is ** the surprise." It sets the juices, and,
in the case of frying, seals the fish or meat in a
grease-proof envelope so that it will not become
sodden but will dr}^ crisp when drained. The
horrors of the frying-pan that has been unskillfully
wielded are too well known. Let us campers, to
whom the frying-pan is an almost indispensable
utensil, set a good example to our grease-afilicted
country by using it according to the code of health
and epicurean taste.
Meat, game, and fish may be fried, broiled,
roasted, baked, boiled, stewed, or steamed.Frying
and broiling are the quickest processes; roasting,
baking, and boiling take an hour or two; a stew
of meat and vegetables, to be good, takes half a
day, and so does soup prepared from the raw ma-
terials. Tough meat should be boiled or braised
in a pot.
Do not eat freshly killed meat if you can help it.
Game should hang at least two days; otherwise it
will be tough and tasteless. Venison eaten before
it has completely cooled through will cause diar-
rhoea and perhaps nausea.

Frying. — Do not try to fry over a flaming fire
or a deep bed of coals the grease would likely burn
;
and catch aflame. Rake a thin layer of coals out

in front of the fire; or, for a quick meal, make your
fire of small dry sticks, no thicker than your finger,
boil water for your coffee over the flame, and then
fry over the quickly formed coals.
If you have a deep pan and plenty of frying
fat, it is much the best to immerse the material
completely in boiling grease, as doughnuts are fried.
Let the fat boil until little jets of smoke arise
(being careful not to burn the grease). When
fat begins to smoke continuously it is decomposing
and will impart an acrid taste. When a bread
crumb dropped in will be crisp when taken out, the
fat is of the right temperature. Then quickly drop
in small pieces of the material, one at a time so as
not to check the heat. Turn them once while
cooking. Remove when done, and drop them a
moment on coarse paper to absorb surplus grease,
or hang them over a row of small sticks so they can
drain. Then season. The
fry will be crisp, and
dry enough to handle without soiling the fingers.
This is the way for small fish.
Travelers must generally get along with shallow
pans and little grease. To fry (or, properly, to
saute) in this manner, without getting the article
sodden and unfit for the stomach, heat the dry pan
very hot, and then grease it only enough to keep
the meat from sticking (fat meat needs none).
The material must be dry when put in the pan
(wipe fish with a towel) or it will absorb grease.
Cook quickly and turn frequently, not jabbing with
a fork for that would let juice escape. Season
when done, and serve piping hot.
Lard used for frying fish must not be used again
for anything but fish. Crisco does not transmit
the flavor of one food to another. Surplus fat can
be kept in a baking powder can, sealed, for transit,
with surgeon's plaster.
Chops, fat meats, squirrels, rabbits, and the
smaller game birds are best sauted or fricasseed and
served with gravy. A
fricassee is made of meat or
birds cut into small pieces, fried or stewed, and
served with gravy. Sausage should be fried over
a very gentle fire.
Bear meat is best braised (see under that head-
ing) if to be fried, it should first be soaked for
;
an hour in a solution of one tablespoon baking soda

to a quart of water, then parboiled until tender,
Broii ^ng. —
Fresh jnct that is tender enougl) to
MEATS 293
escape the boiling pot or the braising oven should
either be broiled or roasted before a bed of clear,
hard coals. Both of these processes preserve the
characteristic flavor of the meat and add that
piquant, aromatic-bitter " taste of the fir^^'. " which
no pan nor oven can impart. Broil when you are
in a hurry, but when you have leisure for a good
job, roast your meat, basting it frequently with
drippings from the pan below, so as to keep the
surface moist and flexible and insure that precise
degree of browning which delights a gourmet.
For broiling, cut the meat at least an inch thick.
Only tender pieces are fit for broiling. Venison
usually requires some pounding, but don't gash it
in doing so. Have a bed of bright coals free from
smoke, with clear flaming fire to one side. Sear
outside of meat by thrusting for a moment in the
flame and turning; then broil before the fire,
rather than over it, so as to catch drippings in a
pan underneath. Do not season until done, or, if
you do salt It, observe the rule for chops, given
below. A steak i inch thick should be broiled five
minutes, i^ inches ten minutes, 2 inches twenty
minutes. Serve on hot dish with drippings poured
over, or buttered.
To broilon a forked, green stick, tie the split-
open whatever it be, to the fork with hem-
bird, or
lock rootlets or others that do not burn easily.
To broil enough for a party, when you have no
broiler, clean the frying-pan thoroughly and get
it almost red hot, so as to seal pores of meat in-
stantly. Cover pan. Turn meat often, without

stabbing. A
large venison steak will be done in
ten minutes. Put on hot dish, season with pep-
per and salt, and pour juices over it. Equal to
meat broiled on a gridiron, and saves the juices.
To broil by completely covering the slice of meat
with hot ashes and embers is a very good way.
To grill on a rock, take two large flat stones of
a kind that do not burst from heat (not moist or
seamy ones)* wipe them clean of grit, place them
one above the other, with a few pebbles between
to keep them apart, and build a fire around them.
When they are well heated, sweep away the ashes,
and place your slices of meat between the stones.
Before broiling fish on an iron they should be
buttered and floured to prevent sticking; or, grease
the broiler.
There
is no chop like an English mutton chop.
Itshould be cut thick. How to cook it is told by

an English camper, Mr. T. H. Holding, in his
Campers Handbook:
" First let the pan get warm, then rub with a piece
of the fat from the meat. As this fat warms and mehs
on the bottom, put in the chop and sHghtly increase your
flame [he is assuming that you cook on a Primus stove],
and let it cook rapidly. Put a very free sprinkling of salt
on the top of the chop. I will explain this. The salt that
is so distributed melts, and runs into the pores of the meat
and gets through it. As the heat forces up the blood, so
the salt in melting trickles down till it fills the chop, so to
say. Directly the latter begins to look red on the top, turn
it over smartly and cleanly. Now the heat will drive back
the blood to meet the fresh supply of salt that is put on
the *
new side. Cook it gently, moving it at intervals.
'
Presently this salt will disappear, and in its place blood will
begin to make its appearance and show the chop is cooked.
" Now, the hungry one who knows how to enjoy a chop,
will be delighted with one thus cooked. It will be tender,
tasty, and soft, if the meat is good. A chop should not be
cooked till it is pale inside; if it loses its redness it loses
its character and its flavor.
" The fat of a chop should not be cut off, unless there is
too much of it. It will pay to cook it and so help to make
gravy, into which a piece of bread or slices of potato may
be put and fried. . . .
" If a couple of potatoes be peeled and washed, cut in

slices not more than an eighth-of-an-inch in thickness, put
in the pan around the chop, and the whole covered over
with a plate, they will be cooked by the time the chop is
done. I am free to say from experience that never do
potatoes taste so sweet as when cooked under these condi-
tions. . But to cut these potatoes thick is to foil the
. .
object, because they have not time then to cook through."
Chops of mountain sheep and other game may

be cooked in the same way.
Roasting. —
I'o roast is to cook by the direcr
MEATS 295
heat of the fire, as on a spit or before a high bed

of coals. Baking is performed in an oven, pit, or
closed vessel. No kitchen range can compete with
an open fire for roasting.
Build a rather large fire of split hardwood
(sott-
against a high backlog or wall

woods are useless)
the heat forward.
of rocks which will reflect
bird or fish)
Sear the outside of the roast (not a
of albumen is
in clear flames until outer layer
coagulated. Then skewer thin slices of pork to
upper end; hang roast before fire and close
to it
catch drip-
by a stout wet cord; turn frequently;
green-bark trough, and baste with
pings in pan or
than roasting on a spit over
them. This is better
better regulated,
the fire, because the heat can be
the meat turned and held in position
more easily,
drippings are
the roast is not smoked, and the
utilized. • 1 •
it and sprin-
Just before the meat is done, baste
then brown it near the fire, and
kle with flour,
make gravy as directed on page 303.
A whole side of venison can be roasted by plant-
the fire, a stub
ing two stout forked stakes before
slit cut be-
of each stake being thrust through a
tween the ribs and under the backbone. The
for-
piece.
ward part of the saddle is the best roasting
Trim off flankv parts and ends of ribs, and split
hang
backbone lengthwise so that the whole will
flat. To roast a shoulder, peel it from the side,
part of flesh, press
cut off leg at knee, gash thickest
bits of pork into them, and skewer some slices to
upper part.
When roasting a large joint, a turkey, or any-
thing else that will require more
than an hour of
steady heat, do not depend upon adding wood from
you have a good supply of
time to time, unless
of stove-wood size. If
sound, dry hardwood sticks
or large sticks muct be used, build a
green 'wood
bonfire of themone side of your cooking-fire,
at
will not
and shovel coals from it as required. It
do to check the cooking-fire.
296 CAMFING AND WOODCRAFT
Kabobs. — When
in a hurry, cut a i^ or 2 inch
portion from the saddle or other tender part, break
up the fiber by pounding, unless the animal was
young, and divide the meat into several small frag-
ments. Impale one of these on a sharpened stick,
salt and pepperit, plunge it for a moment into a
clear bright flame, then toast it slow^ly over the

embers. Salt, in this case, is glazed on the sur-
face and cannot draw the juice. While eating one
bit, toast another.
Roasting in the Reflector. — Pin thin slices of
pork or bacon over the roast. Put a little water
in the bake-pan, lay the meat in, and set the baker
before the fire. Baste occasionally. When the
front is done, reverse the pan. Make gravy from
the drippings.
Barbecueing. — To barbecue is to roast an ani-
mal whole, and baste it frequently with a special
dressing, for which the following recipe is bor-
rowed from Frank Bates:
" One pint of vinegar, half a can of tomatoes, two tea-
spoonfuls of red pepper (chopped pepper-pods are bet-
ter), a teaspoonful of black pepper, same of salt, two
tablespoonfuls of butter. Simmer together till it is com-
pletely amalgamated. Have a bit of clean cloth or sponge
tied on the end of a stick, and keep the meat well basted
with the dressing as long as it is on the fire."
Dig a pit somewhat longer and wider than the

spread-out carcass of the animal. Build a log fire
in it of hardwood. When this has burned to coals,
place a green log at each end of the pit and one on
each side of it, near the edges. Over the side logs
lay green poles to support the meat, thick enough
not to burn through (when it can be procured, a
sheet of wire netting is laid over this frame).
Tough meat is previously parboiled in large pots.
Braising. — Tough meat is improved by brais-
ing in a Dutch oven, or a covered pot or saucepan.
This process lies between baking and frying. It is
pre-eminently the way to cook bear meat, venison
shoulders and rounds. Put the meat in the oven or
MEATS 297
pot with about two inches of hot water in the bot-
tom, and a bit of bacon or pork (but not for bear).
Add some chopped onion, if desired, for seasoning.
Cover and cook about fifteen minutes to the pound.
A half hour before the meat is done, season it with
salt and pepper.
The gravy is made by pouring the grease from
the pot, adding a little water and salt, and rubbing
flour into gradually with a spoon.
it
—
Baking Meat. Baking in a Hole. This is a —
modification of braising. Dig a hole in the ground,
say 18x18x12 inches. Place kindling in it, and
over the hole build a cob house by laying split hard-
wood sticks across, not touching each other, then
another course over these and at right angles to
them, and so on till you have a stack twô feet high.
Set fire to it. The and
air will circulate freely,
the sticks, if of uniform size, will all burn down
to coals together.
Cut the fowlj Or whatever it is, in pieces, sea-
son, add a chunk of fat pork the size of your fist,
put in the kettle, pour in enough water to cover,
put lid on kettle, rake coals out of hole, put kettle
in, shovel coals around and over it, cover all with
a few inches of earth, and let it alone over night.
It beats a bake-oven. In case of rain, cover with
bark.
Experiment with this two or three times before
you risk much on it; for the right heat and the
time required can only be learned by experience.
Grouse and the like can be cooked nicely by put-
ting one in the bean-pot when baking beans.
Baking an Animal in Its Hide. —
If the beast is
too large to bake entire, cut off what you want
and sew it up in a piece of the hide. In this case
it is best to have the hole lined with flat stones.
Rake out embers, put meat in, cover first with green
grass or leaves, then with the hot coals and ashes,
and build a fire on top. When done, remove the
skin.
A deer's head Is placed in the pit, ntck down,
^9B CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
and baked in the same way: time about six hours.
Baking in Clay. —This hermetically seals the
meat while cooking, and is better than baking in
a kettle, but requires experience. Draw the ani-
mal, but leave the skin and hair on. If it be a
large bird, as a duck or goose, cut off head and
most of neck, also feet and pinions, pull out tail
feathers and cut tail off (to get rid of oil sac),
but leave smaller feathers on. If a fish, do not
scale. Moisten and work some clay till it is like
softened putty. Roll it out in a sheet an inch
thick and large enough to completely encase the
animal. Cover the latter so that no feather or hair
projects. Place in fire and cover with good bed
of coals and let it remain with fire burning on top
from y^. of an hour, for a small bird or medium
trout, to two hours for a pheasant or duck. Larger
animals require more time, and had best be placed
in bake-hole over night.
When done, break open the hard casing of baked
clay. The skin peels off with it, leaving the meat
perfectly clean and baked to perfection in its own
juices. This method has been practiced for ages
by the gipsies and other primitive peoples.
Frank Bates recommends another way: "Have
a pail of water in which stir clay until it is of the
consistency of thick porridge or whitewash. Take
the bird by the feet and dip into the water. The
clay will gather on and between the feathers. Re-
peat till the bird is a mass of clay. Lay this in
the ashes, being careful to dry the outside. . . .
Bake till the clay is almost burned to a brick."
Baking in the Embers. — To bake a fish, clean
it —if it is large enough to be emptied through a
—
hole in the neck, do not slit the belly season with
salt and pepper, and, if liked, stuff with Indian
meal. Have ready a good bed of glowing hard-
wood coals cover it with a thin layer of ashes, that
;
the fish may

not be burnt. Lay the fish on this,
and cover it with more ashes and coals. Half an
hour, more or less, is required, according to size.
MEATS 299
On removing the fish, pull off the skin, and the
flesh will be found clean and palatable.
A bird, for example a duck, is baked in much
the same way. Draw it, through a small slit at
the vent, but do not remove the feathers. If you
like stuffed duck, stuff with bread crumbs or broken
biscuit, well seasoned with salt and pepper. Wet
the feathers by dipping the bird in water; then bury
it in the ashes and coals. A teal will require about
half an hour; other birds in proportion.
Boiling. — The broader the pot, and the blacker
It is, the quicker it boils. Fresh meats should be
started in boiling water; salt or corned meats, and
those intended for stews or soups, in cold water.
The meat (except hams) should be cut into chunks
of not over five pounds each, and soup bones well
cracked. Watch during first half hour, and skim
oft' all scum as fast as it rises, or it will settle and
adhere to meat. Fresh meat should be boiled un-
fil bones are free, or until a fork wnll pierce easily
(ten pounds take about two and a half hours).

Save the broth for soup-stock, or make gravy of
it by seasoning with pepper and thickening with
flour. (See page 303.)
Meat that is to be eaten cold should be allowed
to cool in the liquor in which it was boiled. A
tablespoonful or two of vinegar added to the boil-
ing water makes meat more tender and fish firmer.
Turn the meat several times while boiling. If the
water needs replenishing, do it w^th boiling, not
cold, water. Season a short time before meat is
done. If vegetables are to be cooked with the
meat, add them at such time that they will just
finish cooking when the meat is done (potatoes
twenty to thirty minutes before the end carrots
;
and turnips, sliced, one to one and a half hours).

Remember this: put fresh meat in hard boiling
water for only five minutes, to set the juices; then
remove to greater height over the fire and boil
very slowly — to let it boil hard all the time would
make it tough and indigestible. Salt or corned
;

meats go in cold water at the start and are gradu-
ally brought to a boil; thereafter they should be
allowed barely to simmer.
Fish go in boiling salted water. Boiling meat
must be kept covered.
In heating milk beware that you do not burn it.,
Bring it gradually to the simmering point, but do
not let it actually boil.
At high altitudes it is impossible to cook satis-
factorily by boiling, because water boils at a lower
and lower temperature the higher we climb. The
decrease is at the rate of about one degree for every
550 feet up TO one mile, and one degree for 560 feet
above that, when the temperature is 70°. With
the air at 32° F., and the barometer at 30 inches,
water boils at 212° 202.5° at 5,000
at sea-level,
feet, 193.3° at 10,000 feet, and 184.5° at 15,000
feet. These figures vary somewhat according to
the purity of the water, the material of the vessel,
etc.
To parboil is to boil only until tender, before
cooking in some other way.
Stewing. — This process is slow, and should be
reserved for tough meats. Use lean meat only.
First brown it with some hot fat in a frying-pan
or put a couple of ounces of chopped pork in a kettle
and get it thoroughly hot; cut your meat into small
pieces; drop them into the fat and "jiggle" the
kettle until the surface of the meat is coagulated by
the hot fat, being careful, the while, not to burn it.
Add a thickening of a couple of ounces of flour and
mix it thoroughly with the fat; then a pint
of water or soup-stock. Heat the contents of the
kettle to boiling and season with salt, pepper, and
chopped onion. Curry powder, if you like it, is
proper in a stew. Now cover the kettle closely and
hang it where it will only simmer for four or five
hours. Stews may be thickened with rice, pota-
toes, or oatmeal, as well as with flour. Add condi-
ments to suit the taste. Aragout is nothing but
a highly seasoned stew. The greater the variety
MEAT^^ 301
cf meats and vegetables, the better. Rice and to-
matoes are especially suitai)lo"'^dacaroni, spa-
ghetti, and noodles; cife Utee in stews;
vermicelli,
you will need or no bread if j^îave such
little
pastes or some dumplings in the f>?\^.\'^^fcr^ry the
flavor of game stews, add beef '<5^tTacci;? st^ as
'<5^tTacfest^
Steero or other beef cubes, or Oystefi^ j)^sJ«Sl^
vegetablesmay be used instead of fresnvjîiS^^^ "^x
The method given above is the one I u§u^p5^6lv"^J»^
low; but I take the liberty of adding anofher by*^
Captain Kenealy:
" Stewing is an admirable way of making palatable
coarse and tough pieces of meat, but it requires the knack,
like all other culinary processes. Have a hot fry-pan ready,
cut the meat up into small squares and put it (without
any dripping or fat) into the pan. Let it brown well, add-
ing a small quantity of granulated sugar and sliced onions
to taste. Cook until the onions are tender and well col-
ored. Then empty the fry-pan into a stew-pan and add
boiling water to cover the meat, and let it simmer gently
for two or three hours. Flavor with salt, pepper, sweet
herbs, curry powder or what you will. The result will be
a savory dish of tender meat, called by the French a ragout.
It is easy to prepare it this way. Do not boil it furiously
as is sometimes done, or it will become tough. This dish
may be thickened with browned flour, and vegetables may
be added — turnips, carrots, celery, etc., cut into small pieces
and browned with the meat. The sugar improves the
flavor vastly. The only condiments actually necessary are
pepper and salt. Other flavorings are luxuries."
Steaming. —
To steam meat or vegetables'
build a large fire and throw on it a number of
smooth stones, not of the bomb-shell kind. Dig a
hole in the ground near the fire. When the stones
are red hot, fork them into the hole, level them,
cover with green or wet leaves, grass, or branches^
place the meat or potatoes on this layer, cover with
more leaves, and then cover all with a good layer
of earth. Now
bore a small hole down to the tood,
pour in some water, and immediately stop up the
hole, letting the foodsteam until tender. This is
the Chinook method of cooking camass. Shellfish
can be steamed in the same way.
Meat Gravies and Sauces. — A gravy is sea-
soned with nothing but salt and pepper, the object
being to preserve the flavor of the meat. sauce A
is highly seasoned to disguise poor meat, or made-
over dishes, or whatever has been served so often

that it begins to pall on the appetite.
An abundance of rich gravy is relished by
campers who do not carry butter. They have
nothing else to make their bread '' slip down."
Good gravy cannot be made from meat that has
been fried properly or broiled, because the juice is
left in the meat. Our pioneer families seldom had
butter, yet they had to eat a much larger component
of bread than we do, from lack of side dishes.
Hence the ''
fried-to-a-chip " school of cookery.
In such case, the right way is obvious, granting
that you have plenty of meat. Fry properly
enough meat for the party and leave enough more
in the pan to make gravy. Gash or mince this re-
mainder, cook all the juice out of it without scorch-
ing, throw out the refuse meat, rub in a thickening
prepared in advance as directed belou^, salt and pep-
per, then thin to the desired consistency with boil
ing water. The thickening is made by rubbing
cold milk, or water, or broth, a little at a time, into
a spoonful of flour, until a smooth paste is formed
that will just drop from a spoon or thicken with ;
roux. Chopped liver improves a gravy.

Roux (pronounced "roo") is a thickening foi
gravy or soups that can be prepared at any time
and kept ready for emergencies. It v^'ill keep good
for months in a covered jar. teaspoonful A
thickens half a pint of gravy, or a pint of soup.
Brown roux is made thus: Melt slowly lb. ^
of butter, skim it well, let it stand for a minute
to settle, and pour it off from the curd. Put the
clear oily butter into a pan over a slow^ fire, shake
into it enough sifted flour(7 or 8 oz.) to make a
thick paste. Stir constantlyand heat slow^ly and
evenly until it is very thick and of a bright brown
cnlnr. Put it ieto a jar. White roux is made in

MEATS 303
the same way except that it is stirred over a verj
gentle fire until it is thoroughly baked but no\
browned. It is used for white gravy on fish, etc.
Gravy for Boiled Meat. —
Some of the liquor in
which the meat was cooked can be thickened by
melting a piece of butter the size of a small egg,
mixing with it very smoothly a tablespoonful of
flour, heating until lightly browned, adding the
meat liquor and letting it boil up. Flavor to ta^tSJ^Vj.
and serve separately from the meat. 0;i^^
Gravy for Roast Meat. —
Use the drippings aw
above, and thin with boiling water in which half-
a teaspoonf\iI of salt has been dissolved.
Dripping is the fat that drops from meat when
roasting.
Gravy from Extract of Beef. —
When there is no
venison in camp, it will not be long before the men
crave the taste of beef. Liebig's extract, or Bovril,
or Steero, dissolved in boiling water and liberally
salted willmake a good beef gravy by letting it boil
up, then simmer, and thicken in one of the ways de-
scribed above.
Onion Gravy. — Rub up flour in water to a bat-
€/; salt it. Chop some onion very fine and fry it
a little in the meat juice. Pour the batter on this,
and stir till the flour is done.
Cream Gravy for Meat or Fish. —
J4 pint milk.
1 tablespoonful butter.
y2 tablespoonful flour.
J^ tablespoonful salt.
y^ tablespoonful pepper.
Heat butter in frying-pan. Add flour, stirring

until smooth and frothy. Draw pan back and
gradually stir in the milk. Then
return the pan to
the fire. Add salt Stir until sauce
and pepper.
boils. This must be used at once, and everybody's
plate should be hot, of course.
Sauces. —A
camp cook nearly always lacks the
sweet herbs, fresh parsley, mushrooms, capers,
anchovies, shrimps, tarraapn, wine, and many other
condiments to which standard sauces owe their
characteristic flavors.He must make shift with
spices and perhaps lemon, Worcestershire, vinegar,
mustard, curry powder, or celery seed. How to
use these to the best advantage cannot be taught in
a book. Personal tastes and the materials at hand
must govern. I give here the recipes for three
simple sauces for meat. Others will be found in
the chapters on Game, Fish, and Desserts.
Mustard Sauce. — Brown two teaspoonfuls of
flour in a pan with a little butter. Put two table-
spoonfuls of butter on a plate and blend with it the
browned teaspoonful of mustard, and a lit-
flour, a
tle salt. When these are smoothly mixed stir them
into 34 pi^t boiling water. Simmer five minutes.
Add enough vinegar or lemon juice to flavor.
Venison Sauce. —
Stir together one tablespoonful
of butter with a teaspoonful of mustard and three
tablespoonfuls of jelly (preferably currant).
When these are well blended, add three tablespoon-
fuls of vinegar, some grated nutmeg, and a dash of
Cayenne pepper. Heat together. When the sauce
boils add three tablespoonfuls chopped pickles.
Serve at once. Currant jelly alone goes well wuth
venison.
Sauce for Broiled Venison. —
Make the steak-
dish very hot. Put on it for each pound of venison
3^ tablespoonful of butter, a tablespoonful of cur-
rant jelly, one of boiling water, and a little pepper
and salt. Turn the broiled steaks in the sauce once
or twice and serve very hot.
Parsley Butter. —
I confess to a weakness for the
flavor of parsley. The fresh herb, of course, we
cannot have in camp, but the dehydrated kind, or
C. & B. dried parsley, will do very well. Make a
thin mixture of flour and water, salt it, and add
a pat of butter (not really necessary). Boil this
until the rawness is gone from the flour, and use it
with fish, flesh, or fowl, particularly the latter.
CHAPTER XVII
CAMP COOKERY
Game
The following additional details are supplemen-
tary to what has gone before, and presuppose a care-
ful reading of the preceding pages.
Game and all other kinds of fresh meat should
be hung up till they have bled thoroughly and have
cooled through and through —
they are tenderer
and better after they have hung several days. Ven-
ison especially is tough until it has hung a week.
In no case cook meat until the animal heat has left
it: if you do, it is likely to sicken you. This does
not apply to fish. P'rozen meat or fish should be
thawed in very cold water and then cooked im-
mediately —
warm water would soften it and steal
its flavor.
Allmammals from the 'coon size down, as well'
as duck and grouse, unless young and tender, or
unless they have hung several days, should be par-
boiled (gently simmered) from ten to thirty min-
utes, according to size, before frying, broiling, or
roasting. The scent glands of mammals and the
oil sacs of birds should be removed before cooking.
In small mammals look for pea-shaped, waxy or
reddish kernels under the front legs and on either
side of the small of the back.
As game has little natural fat, it requires fre-
quent basting and the free use of butter or bacon
grease in cooking.
Venison. — (Deer of all species, elk, moose t,
caribou.)
.305
3o6 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Fried Venison. —
See page 291.
Boiled Venison. —
See page 292.
Roast Venison. —
See page 294.
Braised Venison. —
See page 296.
Baked Venison. —
See page 297.
Boiled Venison. —
See page 299.
Stewed Venison. —
See page 300.
Steamed Venison. —
See page 301.
Baked Deer's Head. —
See page 297.
Braised Bear. —
See page 296.
Fried Bear. —
See page 292.
Brains. —Clean and wash them well. Yry 01 ;
boil slowly half an hour.

Brains and Eggs. —
Desiccated eggs will do as
well as fresh ones. Soak them as directed on can.
Chop fine some bacon and enough onion to sea-
son. Dice the brains into about ^-inch cubes.
Fry bacon and onion together until brown. Add
the brains, and cook until nearly done; then add
the eggs, beaten slightly, and fry until they are
scrambled. Season with salt and pepper.
Heart. —Remove valves and tough, fibrous tis-
sue; then braise, or cut into small pieces and use in
soups or stews.
Kidneys, Fried. —
Halve them, slit twice the
long way on the inside, but do not cut clear
through; leave the fat on the kidneys. Fry^ until
all blueness has disappeared.
Kidneys, Stewed. —
Soak in cold water one hour.
Cut into small pieces, and drop each piece into cold
water, as cut. Wash well; then stew, seasoning
with onion, celery (dehydrated), cloves, salt and
pepper.
Liver. —
Carefully remove the gall-bladder if
the animal has one —
deer have not. Parboil the
liver and skim off the bitter scum that rises. Slice
rather thin put one slice of bacon in the pan and
;
fry from it enough grease to keep liver from

sticking. Salt the liver and fry until half done;
then add more bacon and fry all until done. Liver
should be thoroughly cooked; if you put all the
GAME 307
bacon in with it at the start the latter would be
ruined before the liver was done.
Another way: cut liver into slices ^-inch thick,
soak it one hour in cold salt water, rinse well in
warm water, wipe dry, dip each slice in flour sea-

soned with salt and pepper, and fry as above.
If in a hurry, put the liver on a green hardwood
stick for a spit, skewer some of the caul fat around
it, and roast before the fire.
—
Marrow Bones. Cover ends with small pieces
of plain dough made with flour and water, over
which tie a floured cloth; place bones upright in
kettle, and cover with boiling water. Boil two
hours. Remove cloth and paste, push out mar-
row, and serve with dry toast.
Milt (Spleen). —
Skewer a piece of bacon to it,
and broil.
Moose Muffle (nose and upper lip). —
Boil like
pig's head. Add an onion.
Tonffue. —Soak for one hour rinse in fresh
;
water; put in a kettle of cold water, bring to a

boil, skim and simmer two hours, or until tender.
A blade of mace and a clove or two improve the
gravy; so also Worcestershire sauce.
Croquettes. —
Two cups minced meat or game
of any kind, ^
cup bread or cracker crumbs, i^
egg, melted butter. Roll meat, seasoning, and
enough of the butter to moisten, into pear-shaped
bails. Dip in beaten eggs and crumbs. Fry, with
enough butter, to a nice brown.
Venison Sausages. —
Utilize the tougher parts of
the deer, or other game, by mincing the raw meat
with half as much salt pork, season wîth pepper and
sage, make into little pats, and fry like sausages.
Very good.
Game Pot Pie. — Take J^ teaspoonful baking
powder to >4 pint of flour, sift together, and add
a teaspoonful lard or butter by rubbing it m, also
a pinch of salt. Make a soft biscuit dough of this,
handling as little as possible and being careful not
to mix too thin. Roll into a sheet and cut into
j

stripsabout i^ inches wide and 3 inches long, cut-
ting two or three little holes through each to let
steam escape. Meantime you have been boiling
meat or game and have sliced some potatoes.
When the meat is within one-half hour of being
done, pour off the broth into another vessel and lift
out most of the meat. Place a layer of meat and
potatoes in bottom of kettle, and partially cover
with strips of the dough then another layer of
;
meat and vegetables, another of dough, and so on

until the pot is nearly full, topping off with dough.
Pour the hot broth over this, cover tightly, and boil
one-half hour, without lifting the pot cover, which,
by admitting cold air, would make the dough
" sad." Parsley helps the pot, when you can get it.
Dumplings. —
These add zest to a stevv' or to
boiled meat of any kind. Plain dumplings are
made of biscuit dough or the batter of dropped
biscuit (recipes in chapter on Bread). Drop them
into the pot a short time before meat is done. See
also page 358.
Bear, Braised. — See page 296.
Small Game. —
Jambolaya. — This is a delicious Creole dish,
easily prepared. Cut up any kind of small game
and stew them. When half done, add
into joints,
some minced ham or bacon, ^
pint rice, and season
with pepper and salt. If rabbit is used, add onions.
Serve with tomatoes as a sauce.
Curry of Game. —
Cut some birds or other small
game rather small joints.
into Fry until lightly
browned. Score each joint slightly, place a little
curry powder in each opening, and squeeze lemon
juice over it. Cover the joints with brown gravy
and simmer gently for twenty minutes. Serve
with rice around the dish. (See also Curry Sauce
page 320.)
Game Pie.
^
— Make a plain pie crust as directed

in the chapter on Desserts. Cut the game into
joints. Season rather highly. Moisten the joints
GAME 309
with melted butter and lemon juice, or put a few
thin strips of bacon in with them. Cover with
top crust like a fruit pie and bake not too long;
time according to size.
Squirrels, Fried. —
Unless they are young, par-
boil them gently for Yz hour in salted water.
Then fry in butter or pork grease until brown. A
dash of curry powder when frying is begun im-
proves them, unless you dislike curry. Make gravy
as directed on page 303.
Squirrels, Broiled. —
Use only young ones. Soak
in cold salted wâter for an hour, wipe dry, and
broil over the coals with a slice of bacon laid over
each squirrel to baste it.
Squirrels, Stewed. — They way,

are best this or
fricasseed. For pages 300 and
directions see 292.
Squirrels, Barbecued. — Build hardwood
a fire
between two large logs lying about two feet apart.
At each end of the fire drive two forked stakes
about fifteen inches apart, so that the four stakes
will form a rectangle, like the legs of a table. The
forks should all be about eighteen inches above the
ground. Choose young, tender squirrels (if old
ones must be used, parboil them until tender but
not soft). Prepare spits by cutting stout switches
of some wood that does not burn easily (sassafras
is best— beware of poison sumach), peel them,
sharpen the points, and harden them by thrusting
for a few moments under the hot ashes. Impale
each squirrel by thrusting a spit through flank,
belly, and shoulder, on one side, and another spit
similarly on the other side, spreading out the sides,
and, if necessary, cutting through the ribs, so that
the squirrel will lie open and flat.
Lay two poles across the fire from crotch to
crotch of the posts, and across these lay your spitted
squirrels. As soon as these are heated through,
begin basting with a piece of pork on the end of a
switch. Turn the squirrels as required. Cook
slowly, tempering the heat, if needful, by scatter-
ing ashes thinly over the coals: but remove the
3IO CAZvlPING AND WOODCRAFT
ashes for a final browning. When the squirrels
are done, butter them and gash a little that the
juices may flow.
Rabbit, or Hare. —
Remove the head skin and ;
draw, cut out the waxy glands under the front legs
where they join the body soak in cold salted water
;
for one hour ; rinse in fresh cold water and wipe dry.
It is however, unless the animals are quite
better,
young, to parboil them for about fifteen minutes
with salt, pepper, and an onion. Rabbits are not
really good to eat until several days after killing.
To fry: parboil first, cut off legs at body joint,
and cut the back into three pieces. Sprinkle with
flour and fry brown on both sides. Remove rabbit
to a dish kept hot over a few coals. Make a gravy
as follows: Put into the pan a small onion previ-
ously parboiled and minced and add one cup boil-
ing water. Stir in gradually one or two table-
spoonfals of browned flour; stir well, and let it boil
one minute. Season with pepper, salt, and nutmeg.
Pour it over the rabbit.
To roast in reflector: cut as above, lay a slice
of pork on each piece, and baste frequently. The-
rabbit may be roasted whole before the fire.
To bake in an oven: stuff with a dressing made
of bread crumbs, the heart and liver (previously
parboiled in a small amount of water), some fat
salt pork, and a small onion, all minced and mixed
together, seasoned with pepper, salt, and nutmeg,
and slightly moistened with the water in which
heart and liver were parboiled. Sew up the open-
ing closely; rub butter or dripping over rabbit,
dredge with flour, fat pork on
lay thin slices of
back, and place pan or Dutch oven, back upper-
it in
most. Pour into pan a pint or more of boiling
water (or stock, if you have it), and bake with
very moderate heat, one hour, basting every few
minutes if in pan, but not if in Dutch oven. Pre-
pare a gravy with the pot juice, as directed above.
Rabbit is good stewed with onion, nutmeg, pep-
GAME 311
per, and salt for seasoning. Also curried, after the

manner already described.
table-
*
rabbity taste can be eliminated by putting a
The
water in which the rabbit is
spoonful of vinegar in the
Hard boiling will toughen the meat; allow it to
boiled
simmer gently for one or two hours. When
tender add a
minced onion and some bacon grease to the liquor and place
in the baker tobrown. _
.
"The Germans prepare rabbit in a more ambitious

manner, but one that well repays. The
disjointed rabbit is
simmered until tender. Pour the meat and liquor into a

brown three or four
dressing made as follows: Fry until
pieces of bacon which have been diced. Add to this a
sugar and salt,
tablespoonful of flour, a teaspoonful each
of
and a few cloves if possible.
a tablespoonful of vinegar,
Stir well to keep from burning. ,
,u , oK
. •
simmering che rab-

In both cases time can be saved by
"
the following day, browning
bit in the evening, and, on
German dressing. {Katli-
in a baker or serving with the
rene Pinkerton.)
Rabbits are unfit to eat In late

summer as their
warbles, which are the
backs are then infested with
larvs of the rabbit bot-fly.
I
out-
possum.— To call our possum an opossum,
an affectation lôs-
ride of a scientific treatise, is
and hunted,
sum is his name wherever he is known you have
this country over. He is not good until
be served without
freezing weather; nor Is he to
extremity, i hi^
sweet potatoes, except in desperate
is how to serve
"
possum hot." —
hang him up to bleed until morn^
Stick him, and
(not quite
ino- Ahalf filled with hot water
tub is
the possum and hold him
scalding) into which drop
will strip. Take him out
by the tail until the hair
the hair out with you
iJy him on a plank, and
pull
Draw, clean, and hang him up to freeze
fingers.
Then place him in a
?or two or three nights.
water, into which throw
S-gallon kettle of cold
Parboil for one hour in
two pods of red pepper.
pepper-water, whichthen thrown out and
Is
this
fresh water, wherein he
is
the kettle refilled with
boiled one hour.
"
3ia CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT

While this is going on, slice and steam somQ
sweet potatoes. Take the possum out, place him
in a large Dutch oven, sprinkle him with black
pepper, salt, and a pinch or two of sage. A
dash
of lemon will do no harm. Pack sweet potatoes
around him. Pour a pint of water into the oven,
put the lid on, and see that it fits tightly. Bake
slowly until brown and crisp. Serve hot, without
grav}^ Bourbon whiskey is the orthodox accom-
paniment. If you are a teetotaler, any planta-
tion darky can show you how to make " ginger
tea " out of ginger, molasses, and water. Corn
bread, of course.
It is said that possum is not hard to digest even
when eaten cold, but the general verdict seems to
be that none is ever left over to get cold.
When you have no oven, roast the possum be-
fore a high bed of coals, having suspended him by
a wet string, which is twisted and untwisted to
give a rotary motion, and constantly baste it with
a sauce made from red pepper, salt, and vinegar.
Possum may also be baked in clay, with his hide
on. Stuff with stale bread and sage, plaster over
him an inch of stiff clay, and bake as previously
directed. He will be done in about an hour.
Coon.— It is likewise pedantic to call this ani-
mal a raccoon. Coon he always has been, is now,
and shall ever be, to those who know him best.
Skin and dress him. Remove the " kernels
(scent glands) under each front leg and on either
side of spine in small of back. Wash in cold water.
Parboil in one or two waters, depending upon the
animal's age. Stuff with dressing like a turkey.
If you have a tart apple, quarter it and add to the
dressing. Bake to a delicate brown. Serve with
fried sweet potatoes.
Porcupine. —I quote from "Nessmuk:" "And do
not despise the fretful porcupine; he is better than
he looks. If you happen on a healthy young speci-
men when you are needing meat, give him a show
before condemning: him. Shoot him humanely in
GAME 313
the head, and dress him. It is easily done; there
are no quills on the bell]^, and the skin peels as
freely as a rabbit's. Take him to camp, parboil
him for thirty minutes, and roast or broil him to a
rich brown over a bed of glowing coals. He will
need no pork to make him juicy, and you will find
him very like spring lamb, only better."
The porcupine may also be baked in clay, with-
out skinning him; the quills and skin peel off with
the hard clay covering. Or, fry quickly.
As I have never eaten porcupine, I will do some
more quoting —
this time from Dr. Breck: "It
may be either roasted or made into a stew, in the
manner of hares, but must be parboiled at least a
half-hour to be tender. One part of the porcupine
is always a delicacy —
the liver, which is easily
removed by making a cut just under the neck into
which the hand is thrust, and the liver pulled out.
It may be fried with bacon, or baked slowly and
carefully in the baker-pan with slices of bacon."
Muskrat. —You may be driven to this, some day^
and wîll then learn that muskrat, properly pre-
pared is not half bad. The French-Canadians
found that out long ago. Remove the musk glands
and the white stringy substance found on the in-
side of the forearms and thighs. I do not remem-
ber where I picked up the following recipe:
''
Skin and clean carefully four muskrats, being
particular not to rupture musk or gall sac. Take
the hind legs and saddles, place in pot with a little
water, a little julienne (or fresh vegetables, if you
have them), some pepper and salt, and a few slices
of pork or bacon. Simmer slowly over fire until
half done. Remove to baker, place water from pot
in the baking pan, and cook until done, basting fre-
quently. This will be found a most toothsome
dish."
Muskrat may also be broiled over the hot coals,
basting with a bit of pork held on a switch abovf
the beastie.
Woodchuck. — I asked old Uncle Bob Flowers,
one of my neighbors in the Smokies: "Did you
ever eat awoodchuck ?"
" Reckon I don't know what them is."
" Ground-hog."
" Ola dozens of 'em. The red ones hain't
!
good, but the gray ones! man, they'd jest make yer
mouth water!"
"How do you cook them!"
" Cut the
leetle red kernels out from under their
forelegs then bile 'em, fust
; —
all the strong is left
in the water —
then pepper 'em and sage 'em, and
put 'em in a pan, and bake 'em to a nice rich brown,
and —
then I don't want nobody there but me!
"
According to J. Alden Loring, "The only way

to cook a woodchuck properly is to roast him whole
on a stick over a camp-fire, turning him from time
to time until he is well done. The skin keeps the
fat from broiling and enough sinks into the
out,
flesh to make it tender and juicy."
Beaver Tail. —
This tid-bit of the old-time trap-
pers will be tasted by few of our generation, more's
the pity. Impale the tail on a sharp stick and broil
over the coals for a few minutes. The rough, scah
hide will blister and come off in sheets, leaving the
tail clean, white, and solid. Then roast, or boil
until tender. is of a gelatinous nature, tastes
It
somewhat pork,
like and is considered very
strengthening food. A
young beaver, stuffed and
baked in its hide, is good old ones have a peculiar
;
flavor that is unpleasant to those not accustomed to

such diet.
Beaver tail may also be soused in vinegar, after
boiling, or baked with beans. It makes a good soup
if part of the backbone is added.
The liver, broiled on a stick and seasoned with

butter, salt, and pepper, is the best part of the
animal.
Birds. —
If game birds are not hung a few days
after killing they are likely to be tough; but, as I
have remarked elsewhere, this should not be over-
done.
GAME 315^
Game Birds, Fried. — Birds

for frying should be
cut in convenient pieces, parboiled until tender in
a pot with enough water to cover, then removed,,
saving the liquor. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and
flour (this for the sake of the gravy), fry in melted
pork fat, take out when done, then stir into the
frying fat one-half cupful dry flour till a dark
brown, add parboiling liquor, bring to a boil, put
game in dish, and pour gravy over it, or serve with
one of the sauces described below.
—
Game Birds, Broiled. Split them up the back,
broil over the coals, and baste with a piece of pork
on tined stick held over them. Fillets of ducks or
other large birds may be sliced off and impaled on
sticks wi^h thin slices of pork.
Game Birds, Fricasseed. — Any kind of bird may
be fricasseed as follows: Cut
convenient
it into
pieces, parboil them in enough water to cover;
when tender, remove from the pot and drain,
fry two or three slices of pork until brown.
Sprinkle the pieces of bird with salt, pepper, and
flour, and fry to a dark brown in the pork fat.
Take up the bird, and stir into the frying fat half
a cup, more or less, of dry flour, stirring until it
becomes a dark brown then pour over it the liquor
;
in which the bird was boiled (unless it was a fish-

eater), and bring the mixture to a boil. Put the
bird in a hot dish, and serve with the gravy poured
over it.
Wild Turkey,
Roasted. —
Pluck, draw, and
singe. Wipe
the bird inside and out. Rub the
inside with salt and red pepper. Stuff the crop
cavity, then the body, with either of the dressings
mentioned below, allowing room for the filling to
swell. Tie a string around the neck, and sew up
the body. Truss wings to body with wooden
skewers. Pin thin slices of fat pork to breast in
same way. Suspend the fowl before a high bed of
hardwood coals, as previously described, and place
a pan under it to catch drippings. Tie a clean
rag on the end of a stick to baste with- Turn and
baste frequently. Roast until well done (two to
three hours). (See also page 294.)
Meantime cleanse the gizzard, liver, and heart
of theturkey thoroughly in cold water; mince
them; put them in a pot with enough cold water
to cover, and stew gently until tender; then place
where they will keep warm until wanted. When
the turkey is done, add the giblets with the water
in which they were stewed to the drippings in pan;
thicken with one or two tablespoonfuls of flour
that has been stirred up in milk or water and
browned in a pan season with pepper and salt, and
;
serve with the turkey. If you have butter, the

fowl may be basted with it (melted, of course),
and when stewing the giblets add a tablespoonful
of butter and half a teacupful of evaporated milk.
Stuffing for Turkey. —
( i ) If chestnuts are pro-
curable, roast a quart of them, remove shells, and
mash. Add a teaspoonful of salt, and some pep-
per. Mix well together, and stuff the bird with
them.
(2) Chop some fat salt pork very fine; soak
stale bread or crackers in hot water, mash smooth,
and mix with the chopped pork. Season with salt,
pepper, sage, and chopped onion. No game bird
save the wild turkey should be stuffed, unless you
deliberately wish to disguise the natural flavor.
Wild Turkey, Boiled. —Pluck, draw, singe,
wash inside with warm water, and wipe dry. Cut
off head and neck close to backbone, leaving enough
skin to turn over the stuffing. Draw sinews from
legs, and cut off feet just below joint of leg. Press
legs into and skewer them firmly. Stuff
sides
as above. Put the bird into enough hot water to
cover it. Remove scum as it rises. Boil gently one
and one-half to two hours. Serve with giblet sauce
as above.
Waterfowl have two large oil glands in the tail,
with which they oil their feathers. The oil in
these glands imparts a strong, disagreeable flavor
*^^ the bird soon after it is killed. Hence the
GAME 317'
tail should always be removed betore cooking.

To cook a large bird in a hurry. —
Slice off sev^
eral fillets from the breast impale them, with slices
;
of pork, on a green switch; broil over the coals.

Wild Goose, Roasted. —A
good way to suspend
a large bird before the fire is described by Dillon
Wallace in his Lure of the Labrador Wild:
**
George built a big fire —
much bigger than usual. At
the back he placed the largest green log he could find. Just
in front of the fire, and at each side, he fixed a forked stake,
and on these rested a cross-pole. From the center of the
pole he suspended a piece of stout twine, which reached
nearly to the ground, and tied the lower end into a noose.
"Then it was that the goose, nicely prepared for the
cooking, was brought forth. Through it at the wings
George stuck a sharp wooden pin, leaving the ends to
protrude on each side. Through the legs he stuck a sim-
ilar pin in a similar fashion. This being done, he slipped
the noose at the end of the twine over the ends of one of
the pins. And lo and behold! the goose was suspended
before the fire.
"It hung low — just high enough to permit the placing
of a dish under it to catch the gravy. Now and then
George gave it a twirl so that none of its sides might
have reason to complain at not receiving its share of
the heat. The lower end roasted first; seeing which,
George took the goose off, reversed it, and set it twirling
again."
Time-table for Roasting Birds. —A

goose or a
middling-sized turkey takes about two hours to
roast, a large turkey three hours, a duck about
forty-five minutes, a pheasant twenty to thirty min-
utes, a woodcock or snipe fifteen to twenty minutes.
Mîld Duck, Baked. —
The bird should be dry-
picked, and the head left on. Put a little pepper
and salt inside the bird, but no other dressing.
Lay the duck on its back in the bake-pan. Put
no water in the pan. The oven must be hot, but
not hot enough to burn test with the hand.
; Baste
frequently with butter or bacon. A
canvasback
requires about thirty minutes; other birds accord-
ing to size. When done, the duck should be plump,
and the flesh red, not blue.
This is the way to bring out the distinctive flavor
of a Seasoning and stuffing destroy
canvasback.
all that. A
canvasback should not be washed
either inside or outside, but wiped clean with a dry
cloth. Duck should be served with currant jelly,
if you have it. (See also page 297.)
Wild Duck, Stewed. —
Clean well and divide
into convenient pieces (say, legs, wings, and four
parts of body). Place in pot with enough cold
water to cover. Add salt, pepper, a pinch of mixed
herbs, and a dash of Worcestershire sauce. Cut
up fine some onions and potatoes (carrots, too, if
5ôu can get them). Put a few of these in the pot
so they may dissolve and add body to the dish
(flour or corn starch may be substituted for thick-
ening). Stew slowly, skim and stir frequently.
In forty-five minutes add the rest of the carrots,
and in fifteen minutes more add the rest of the
onions and potatoes, also turnips, if you have any.
Stew until meat
done. is
A
plainer camp dish is to stew for an hour in
water that has previously been boiled for an hour
with pieces of salt pork. (See also page 300.)
Fish-eating Fowls. —
The rank taste of these can
be neutralized, unless very strong, by using plenty
of pepper, inside and out, and baking with an onion
inside. Or, draw, and immerse overnight in
skin,
a solution of ^^ small teacup of vinegar to a gal-
lon of water; then fry or bake.
Coots, sheldrake or old-squaw are rid of their
fishy taste, without sacrificing the game flavor, by
a process described by Mary Walsh:
"Pluck and draw the birds immediately; don't allo-w
them to hang with the entrails in. Wash thoroughly
with cold water both outside and in. Cut off the tail
for about one inch with the fatty tissue at the base.
Sprinkle with pungent white pepper both inside and out,
using two teaspoonfuls to each bird. Place in the ice-box
but not touching the ice, and keep for at least one week,
better ten days. Then wash with salt water (handful to
the pint), dry and roast for twenty minutes with an
apple placed in each bird. Then serve, removing the
apple before placing on the table."
GAME 319
ne breast ol ?. coot or rail may be broiled ovei
'1
the embers. Cut slits in it, and in these stick slices

of fat salt pork.The broiled breast of a young
bittern good.
is
Grouse, Broiled. —
Pluck and singe. Split down
the back through the bone, and remove the trail.
Wipe out with damp towel. Remove head and
feet. Rub inside with pepper and salt. Flatten
the breast, brush over with melted butter, or skewer
bacon on upper side, and grill over a hot bed of
coals.
Grouse, Roasted. —
Dress and draw, but do not
split. Place a piece of bacon or pork inside, and
skewêr a piece to the breast. Roast before the
fire as described for turkey, or in a reflector.
Deviled Birds. —
drumsticks and breasts of
If
birds are left they are better deviled than
over,
served cold. Mix up with a knife half an ounce
of butter, half a teaspoonful each of mustard and
salt, some white or black pepper, and enough cay-
enne or chile to give it " snap." Slit the meat, and
insert this mixture, or chop the meat fine and add
the seasoning. Heat well in the frying-pan, and
serve.
Small Birds woodcock, snipe, plover,
(quail,
etc.). — These good roasted before a bed of
are
coals, searing them first as in broiling meat. Im-
pale each bird on a green stick, with a slice of
bacon on the point of the stick over the bird.
Thrust butt of stick into the ground, and incline
stick toward the fire. Turn frequently.
When a number of birds are to be roasted, a
better way is up two forked stakes and a
to set
cross-pole before the fire. Hang birds from the
pole, heads downward, by wet strings. Baste as
recommended for turkey, and turn frequently.
Serve very hot, without any sauce, unless it be
plain melted butter and a slice of lemon.
To grill in a pan pin a bit of bacon to the
:
breast of each bird with a sliver like a toothpick;

hold the pan close over the coals at first for searing;
then cook more slowly, but not enough ô dry out
the meat.
Such birds can also be served in a ragout. (See
page 300.)
Woodcock are not drawn. The trail shrivels up
and easily removed at table.
is
Sauces for Game. (See abo page 303.) —

Giblet Sauce. —
See under Wild Turkey,
Roasted.
Celery Sauce. —
Having none of the vegetable
itself, use a teaspoonful of celery seed freshly pow-
dered, or five drops of the essence of celery on a
piece of sugar. Flavor some melted butter with
this, add a little milk, and simmer ten minutes.
Cranberry Sauce. —
Put a pound of ripe cran-
enough water to pre-
berries in a kettle with just
vent burning.Stew to a pulp, stirring all the
time. Then add syrup previously prepared by
boiling a pound of sugar in %
pint of water.
Canned or dehydrated cranberries will answer.
Curry Sauce. —
This is used with stewed small
game or meat (especially left-overs) that is served
in combination with rice. (See page 308.)
Put a large spoonful of butter in a pan over
the fire; add one onion cut into slices; cook until
the onion is lightly browned. Then stir in one
teaspoonful of curry powder and add gradually a
generous cup of brown gravy, or soup stock, or
the broth in which meat has been stewed, or evap-
orated milk slightly thinned. Boil fifteen minutes,
and strain. Curry may be varied indefinitely by
further flavoring with lemon juice, red pepper, nut-
meg, mace, or Worcestershire sauce.
;
CHAPTER XVIII
CAMP COOKERY
Fish and Shellfish
Fish of the same species vary a great deal in
quahty according to the water in which they are
caught. A black bass taken from one of the over-
flow lakes of the Mississippi bears no comparison
with its brother from a swift, clear, spring-fed
Ozark rive/. But however pure its native waters
rnay be, no fish is good to eat unless it has been
properly cared for after catching (see Chapter
XV) and the best of fish is ruined if fried sog^y
;
with grease (see Chapter XVI under Frying).

Fish, Fried. —
Small fish should be fried whole,
with the backbone severed to prevent curling up
large fish may be steaked (see Chapter XV);
m.edium ones should have heads and tails removed
so they will lie flat in the pan, and have the back-
bone cut in two or three places.
It is customary to roll fish in cornmeal or bread
crumbs, thinly and evenly, before frying. Thai
browns them, and keeps them fromi sticking to the
pan; but it is best only for coarse fish; trout is of
better flavor if simply wiped dry.
Fry in plenty of very hot grease to a golden
brown, sprinkling lightly with pepper and salt just
as the color turns. If the naturally
fish is not
tull-flavored, a few drops of lemon juice will im-
prove it.
Olive oil is best to fry fish in, especially small
ones that can be quite immersed in it; but Crisco,
bacon, salt pork, butter, or lard will do very well.
n2\
When butter Is used, less salt Is If the
required.
fish has not been wiped dry absorb
It too
will
much grease. If the frying fat Is not very hot
when fish are put In It they will get soggy with
it: put the pieces In one at a time so as
not to
check the heat.
Fish, Broiled. —
(See also Chapter XVI.) If a
broiling Iron is used, first rub it with fat bacon to
prevent fish from sticking to It. When

broiling
large fish, remove the head, split down

the back
instead of the belly, and lay on the broiler with

Broil over a
strips of bacon or pork laid across.
Inside will
rather moderate bed of coals so that the
cook done, but beware of cooking dry and " chippy."
Small fish are best broiled quickly over ardent coals.
They need not have heads removed.

When done, sprinkle with salt and pepper, spread
with butter (unless you have been basting with
bacon), and hold again over fire until butter melts.
If you have no broiler, sharpen a
small green
stick,thrust this through the mouth ^nd into the
Dody, and keep turning over the coals while
you
from a bit of bacon held
baste with the drippings
on another sticl: above the fish.
Fish, Skewered.— Sm?i\l fish may
be skewered
on a thin, straight, greenwood stick, sharpened at
the end, with a thin slice of bacon or pork

between
(every two fish, the stick being constantly
turned
over the coals like a spit, so that juices may not
be lost.
Another way cut some green hardwood
Is to
sticks, about three feet long,
forked at one end,
m-
and sharpen the tines. Lay a thin slice of Pork
side each fif.h lengthwise, drive tmes through fish
ribs near
and pork, letting them through between
backbone and on opposite sides of the latter then —
to soften
the fish won't drop off as soon as It begins
Place a log lengthwise
and curl from the heat.
suppori;
ot edge of coals, lay broiling sticks on this
and lay a small lo(i
slanting upward over the fire,
over their butts. Large fish should be oUnked.
FISH AND SHELLFISH 323
Fish Roasted in a Reflector. —
This process is
simpler than baking, and superior in resulting
flavor, since the fish is basted in its own juices, and
is djelicately browned by the direct action of the
lire. The surface of the fish is lightly moistened

with olive oil (first choice) or butter; lacking
these, use drippings, or bacon grease, or lard.
Then place the fish in the pan and add two or three
morsels of grease around it. Roast in front of a
good fire, just as you would bake biscuit. Be care-
ful not to overroast and dry the fish by evaporat-
ing the gravy. There is no better way to cook
a large fish, unless it be planked.
Fish, Planked. —
More expeditious than baking,
and better flavored. Split and smooth a slab of
sweet hardwood two or three inches thick, two feet
long, and somewhat wider than the opened fish.
Prop it in front of a bed of coals till it is sizzling
hot. Split the fish down the back its entire length,
but do not cut through the belly skin. Clean and
wipe it quite dry. When plank is hot, grease it,
spread fish out like an opened book, tack it, skin side
down, to the plank and prop before fire. Baste
continuously with a bit of pork on a switch held
above it, or with butter. Reverse ends of plank
from time to time. If the flesh is flaky when
pierced with a fork, it Is done. Sprinkle salt and
pepper over the fish, moisten with drippings, and
serve on the hot plank. No better dish ever was
>et before an epicure. Plenty of butter improves
it at table.
and Baked.
Fish, Stuffed — Clean, remove fins,
but leave on head and tail. Prepare a stuffing as

follows: put a cupful of dry bread-crumbs in a
frying-pan over the fire with two tablespoonfuls of
drippings, or the equivalent of butter, and stir
them until they begin to brown. Then add enough

boiling water to moisten them. Season this stuf-
fing rather highly Vvith salt, pepper, and either
celery seed, or sage, or a teaspoonful of finely
chopped onion. StuS the fish with this and sew up
times aroui>d
the opening, or wind string several
Lay several strips of salt pork or bacon
the fish.
the top of the fish
in the pan, and several over
pepper, salt, and
Sprinkle over all a little water,
bread crumbs (or dredge with flour).
Bake in a
hot oven, basting frequently. When flakes of fish
begin to separate, it will be done. This is best for

coarse fish.
Fish, Steamed. — Smear some tissue Manila
paper with butter. Clean the fish, leaving head
and fins on. Season with salt and cayenne pep-
separately in a piece of the
per. Roll each fish
buttered paper. Place the fish in a pile and en-
velop them in a large sheet of paper. Then wrap

in water
the bundle in a newspaper, and dip this
saturate the
for five minutes, or long enough to
Scrape a hole in the middle of a bed
newspaper.
package in the embers.
of coals, and bury the
minutes, depending
Leave it there ten to twenty
upon size. The newspaper will scorch, but the
in-
for
ner wrappers will not. The result is a dish fit
Olympus, {Up De Graff.)

Doctor Breck says of this dish:
fail to take
" I so fond of steamed trout that I never
am
with a dozen sheets of
me parchment paper (the kmd m
which butter is sold) in which to wrap my hsh. . .
.
*
Steam-baked ' trout are the ne plus ultra of
woods cook-
ery."
Small fish can be in wet basswood

steamed
without
leaves, buttering.
leaves, or other large
For another method of steaming, see page 301.
good size should
Fish, Boiled.— None but fish of
If the fish is started in cold water and
be boiled.
less likely to
not allowed to boil hard, it will be
not be so good. It
fall apart, but the flavor will
is better to wrap the fish in
a clean cloth and drop
it into boiling water well salted. tablespoonful A
lemon, improves the
of vinegar, or the juice of a
but remove the hns.
dish. Leave the head on,
easily part from
Boil verv gently until the fish will
Skim off the scum as it rises, lime
the bones.
depends on species; from eight to ten minutes per
pound for thick fish, and five minutes for small ones.
Boiled fish require considerable seasoning and a
rich sauce, or at least melted butter, to accompany
them. Besides vinegar or lemon, onions, carrots,
cloves, etc., may be used in the water. Recipes
ôr sauces follov/. (See also pages 303 and 304.)
Butter Sauce. —
2 heaped tablespoonfuls butter.
heaped tablespoonful flour.
I
teaspoonful salt.
1
y^ teaspoonful pepper.
Put the butter in a cold pan, and rub Into it the

flour, salt, and pepper, beating well. Then pour
on a scant half-pint boiling water. Cook twô min*
utes. L^se immediately.
White Sauce. —
2 tablespoonfuls butter.
2 heaped tablespoonfuls flour.
I pint milk.
Y2 teaspoonful salt.
]/% teaspoonful pepper.
For two, use half this.

Cook butter until it bubbles. Add flour, and
cook thoroughly, until smooth. Remove from di-
rect heat of fire, but let it simmer, and add the milk
In thirds, rubbing Into a smooth paste each time as
It thickens. Season
last. Thick white sauce is
made by doubling the flour.
Cold fish that has been left over Is good when
heated In this sauce. It can be served thus, or baked
and some chopped pickles sprinkled over the top.
India Sauce. —
Make a white sauce as above, add
a teaspoonful of curry powder, and some pickles,
chopped small, with a little of the vinegar.
Lemon Sauce. —
I lemon.
3 tablespoonfuls sugar.
y2 pint milk.
I scant tablespoonful butter.
Put the milk, sugar, and thin rind of the lemon
into a pan and simmer gently ten minutes. Then
add the juice of the lemon and the butter rolled
in flour. Stir until butter is dissolved and strain
or pour off clear.
Mustard Sauce (best for coarse fish). —
Melt
butter size of large egg in pan and stir in i table-
spoonful flour and Yi teaspoonful mustard. Boil
up and season (Breck).
once,
Fish Chowder. —
Cut the fish into pieces the
right size for serving, and remove all the bones
possible. For 5 or 6 lbs. of fish take 3^ lb. clear
fat salt pork, slice it, and fry moderately. Slice
two good-sized onions and fry in the fat. Have
ready ten potatoes pared and sliced. Into your
largest pot place first a layer of fish, then one of
potatoes, then some of the fried onion, wath pep-
per, salt,and a little flour, then a slice or two of
the pork. Repeat these alternate layers until all
has been used. Then pour the fat from the fry-
ing-pan over all. Cover the whole with boiling
water, and cook from twenty to thirty minutes,
according to thickness of fish. Five or ten minutes
before serving, split some hard crackers and dip
them in cold water (or use stale bread or biscuits
similarly), add them to the chowder, and pour in
about a pint of hot milk.
The advantage of first frying the pork and
onion is that the fish need not then be cooked over-
done, which is the case in chowders started with
raw pork in the bottom of the kettle and boiled.
—
Another Fish Chowder. Clean the fish, parboil
it, and reserve the water in which it was boiled.
Place the dry pot on the fire when it is hot, throw
;
in a lump of butter and about six onions sliced

finely. When the odor of onion arises, add the
fish. Cover the pot closely for fish to absorb
flavor. Add a very small quantity of potatoes, and
some of the reserved broth. When cooked, let
each man season his own dish. Ask a blessing and
eat. CKenealv.X
Fish Cakes. —
Take fish left over from a previous
meal and either make some mashed potatoes (boil
them, and mash with butter and milk) or use just
the plain cold boiled potatoes. Remove bones from
fish and mince it quite fine. I\Iix well, in propor-
tion of one-third fish and two-thirds potato. Sea-
son with salt and pepper. Then mix in thor-
oughly a well-beaten egg or two (or equivalent of
desiccated egg). If it seems too dry, add m.ore
egg. Form into flat cakes about aj/^ x inches, ^
and fry with salt pork, or (preferably) in deep
fat, like doughnuts.
Fish, Creamed. — See page 337. A good way of
utilizing fish left over.
Fish from Muddy Waters. — To them
clean
properly, see directions in Chapter XV. Another
method is here copied from the Outer's Book:
" Remove the scales, head, fins and intestines, wash and
clean well, then place the fish in a large dishpan and pour
boiling water over them, let them remain in this water for
one minute, two minutes if the fish are very large, take
iliem out of the water and remove the skin. When the
ikin is removed the meat will be clean and free from moss,
mud or tule taste. All fish caught from lakes or streams
where fish frequent places where moss or tules grow, will
.aste of the moss unless they are scaled and the skin re-
moved; the moss taste is under the scales and in the skin.
Fish that live in swift running water will not have the
moss taste, "^nd will not have to be scalded."
When necessary to eat fish caught in muddy

it is
streams, rub a little salt down the backbone, lay
them in strong brine tor a couple of hours before

cooking, and serve with one of the sauces described
above. Carp should have the gills removed, as they
are always muddy from burrowing.
Ed, Broiled. Skin, — clean well with salt to re-
move slime, slit down the back and remove bone,
cut into good-sized pieces, rub inside with egg»
if you have it, roll in cornmeal or dry bread-
crumbs, season with pepper and salt, and broil to
a nice brown. Some like a dash of nutmeg with
tjie seasoning.
328 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT*
Eel, Stewed. — Skin
eel, remove backbone,
the
and cut the about two inches long;
eel into pieces
put in the stew-pan with just enough water to
Cover, and add a teaspoonful of strong vinegar or
\'kslice of lemon, cover stew-pan and boil moder-
ntely until flesh will leave the bones (20 minutes
to half an hour). Then remove, pour off water,
iJrain, add fresh water and vinegar as before, and
iilew until tender. Now drain, add cream enougl;
for a stew, season with pepper and salt (no butter),
boil again for a few minutes, and serve on hot, dry
toast. (Up De
Graff.)
Parsley butter (see page 304) is a good dressing.
Stew the eel until done, add parsley butter, and
continue stewing until it thickens and the parsley
is cooked.
An
eel is too oily for direct frying; but after
stewing until quite done it may be put in a pan
and fried to a nice brown.
A. plain stew is made by adding only a little salt
and a bit of butter, simmer gently till done, then
put enough fine bread or cracker crumbs in the
water to make a thick white sauce.
Fish Roe. —
Parboil (merely simmer) fifteen
minutes; let them cool and drain; then roll in
flour, and fr}^
Miscellaneous. — Frog Legs. — First, afteri
skinning, soak them an hourwater to w^hich
in cold
vinegar has been added, or put them for two min-
utes into scalding water that has vinegar in it
Drain, wipe dry, and cook as below:
To fry: roll in flour seasoned with salt and pep-
per and fry, not too rapidly, preferably in butter
or oil. Water cress is a good relish wnth them.
To grill: Prepare three tablespoonfuls melted
butter, one-half teaspoonful salt, and a pinch or
two of pepper, into which dip the frog legs, then
T'oll in fresh bread crumbs, and broil for three
tnlnutes on each side.
To cream: same process as for codfish (page 336)
except -ti'r ^ream until simmering, season with pep-
TISH AND SHELLFISH 329
per, salt, and nutmeg, cover and cook twenty
minutes.
Turtles. —
All turtles (aquatic) and most tor-
toises (land) are good to eat, the common snappei
being far better than he looks. Kill by cutting
or (readier) shooting the head off. This does not
kill the brute immediately, of course, but it suf-
fices. The common way of killing by dropping a
turtle into boiling water I do not like. Let the
animal bleed. Then drop into a pot of boiling
W'ater for a few seconds. After scalding, the outer
scales of shell, as well as the skin, are easily re-
moved. Turn turtle on its back, cut down middle
of under shell from end to end, and then across.
Throw away entrails, head, and claws. Salt and
pepper it inside and out. Boil a short time in the
shell. Remove when the meat has cooked free
from the shell. Cut up the latter and boil slowly
for three hours with some chopped onion. If a
stew is preferred, add some salt pork cut into dice,
and vegetables. (See page 300.)
Crayfish. —
These are the " craw-feesh!" of our
streets. Tear off extreme end of tail, bringing the
entrail w-ith it. Boil whole in salted water till the
crayfish turns red. Peel and eat as a lobster, dip-
ping each crayfish 'at a time into a saucer of vinegar,
pepper, and salt.
Shellfish.-" Oysters, Stewed. —
Oysters should
not be pierced ivith a fork, but removed from the
liquor with a spoon. Thoroughly drain the juice
from a quart of shelled oysters. Add to the juice
enough waêr (if needed) to make one-half pint.
Place juice Bver fire, and add butter the size of a
walnut, R'imove all scum that arises when the
juice boils. Put in the oysters. Let them cook
quickly until beards wrinkle, but not until
the
oysters shrivel — they
should remain plump. Add
two-thirds pint of milk, let all scald through, re-
move from fire, and season to taste. Never boil
oystf.Ts in milk.
Ojnt/'rs. Fried. — Drain the oysters, and dry
them on a soft cloth (then they will not absorb
grease). Have some desiccated egg prepared, or
beat light the yolks of two or three eggs. Have
enough smoking hot grease in the pan to cover all
the oysters. Dip an oyster into the egg, then into
rolled cracker or dry crumbs, and repeat this. Lay
05'sters in the pan one at a time, so as not to check
the heat. When one side is brown, turn, and
brown the other side. Serve piping hot.
Oysters, Scalloped. — Cover bottom of greased
bake-pan with a layer of drained oysters, dot
thickly over with small bits of butter, then cover
with finely crumbled stale bread, and sprinkle with
pepper and salt. Repeat these layers until the pan
is full, with bread and butter for top layer. The
bread crumbs must be in very thin layers. Bake
in reflector or oven until nicely browned.
—
Oysters, Saute. Drain the oysters. Melt a lit-
tle butter in the frying-pan, and cook the oysters
in it. Salt when removed from pan.
Oysters, Roasted. — Put oysters unopened on
broiler, and hold over the coals. When they open,
put a little melted butter and some white pepper
on each oyster, and they are read3^
Clams, Baked. — Lay down a bed of stones in
disk shape, and build a low wall almost around it,
forming a rock oven open at the top. Build a
big fire in it and keep it going until the wood has
burned down to embers and the stones are very
hot. Rake out all smoking chunks. Throw a
layer of sea-weed over the embers, and lay the
clams quickly on this. Roasting ears in the husks,
or sweet potatoes, are a desirable addition. Cover
all with another layer of sea-weed, and let steam
about forty minutes, or until clams will slip in the
shell. Uncover and serve with melted butter, pep-
per, salt, and perhaps lemon or vinegar.
ClaTn Choivder. — Wash the clams, put them in
a kettle, and pour over them just enough boiling
water to cover them. When the shells open, pour
off the liquor, saving it, cool the clams, and shell
them. Fry two or three slices of pork in bottom
of kettle. When done, pour over it two quarts
it is
of boiling clam liquor. Add six large potatoes,

sliced thin, and cook until nearly done. Turn in
the clams, and a quart of hot milk. Season with
salt and pepper. When this boils up, add crackers
or stale bread, as in fish chowder. Remove from
fire and let crackers steam in the covered pot until
soft.
Fried sliced onion and a can of tomatoes will
improve this chowder. Cloves, allspice, red pep-
per, Worcestershire sauce, and other condiments,
may be added according to taste.
Shellfish, Steamed. —
See page 301.
Crabsj Deviled. — Boil hard-shell crabs a few
minutes until red. Remove the back shells, and
shred out the white meat. Meantime make a paste
of flour rubbed up in cold water, to which add a
few drops of olive oil and some chopped green pep-
pers. Mix swiftly with the crab meat, add a dash
of cayenne, and stuff back into the shells. Bake
until done. (Fortiss.)
CHAPTER XIX
CAMP COOKERY
Cured Meats, Etc. — Eggs
Bacon, Frkd. — Slice Remove the
quite
thin.
rind, as it unsightly but makes the
not only is
slices curl up in the pan. Put pan half full of

water on fire; when water is warm, drop the bacon
in, and stir around until water begins to simmer.
Then remove bacon, throw out water, ivy over
very few coals, and turn often. Remove slices
while still translucent, and season with pepper.
They will turn crisp on cooling. Some prefer not
to parboil.
Bacon, Broiled. —
Slice as above. Turn broiler
repeatedly until bacon is of a light brown colon,
Time, three to four minutes.
Bacon, Boiled. —
Put in enough cold water to
just cover. Bring to a boil very gradually. Re-
move all scum as it arises. Simmer gently until
thoroughly done. Two pounds take i]^ hours;
— ^
each additional pound, hour.
Bacon, Toasted. Cut cold boiled bacon into
thin slices. Sprinkle each with fine bread crumbs
peppered with cayenne. Toast quickly in wire
broiler.
Bacon and Eggs. —
Poach or fry the eggs and lay
them on fried bacon.
Bacon Omelet. —
See Ham Omelet, near end of
chapter.
Bacon Gravy, Thin. —
Pour off the fat and save
it for future use. Pour in enough water to supply
the quantity of gravy desired. Add the juice of a
lemon. Boil and pour upon the bacon. If a
1^2
CURED MEATS 333
richer gravy is desired, follow recipe given below.
Pork Gravy, Thickened. —
This can be made
v\nth ham
or salt pork, as well as with bacon. To
make gravy that is a good substitute for butter,
rub into the hot grease that is left in the pan 2
tablespoonful of flour, keep on rubbing until
smooth and brown; then add two cups boiling
water and a dash of pepper. tablespoonful ofA
catchup may be added for variet5\ If you have
milk, use it instead of water (a pint to the heap'
ing tablespoonful of flour), and do not let the
flour brown this makes a delicious white gravy.
;
Salt Pork, Fried. —

Same as fried bacon, above.
Pork should be firm and dr}^ Clammy pork is
stale.
Salt Pork, Broiled. — Same as bacon ; but it is
usually so salty that it should be parboiled first,
or soaked at least an hour in cold water.

Salt Pork, Boiled. —
Nearly always cooked with
vegetables or greens; hence need not be soaked
or parboiled. See page 299.
Pork Fritters. —
Make a thick batter of corn-
meal one-third and flour two-thirds, or of flour
alone. Fry a few slices of salt pork or bacon until
the fat is tried out. Then cut a few more slices,
dip them in the batter, drop them in the bubbling
fat, season with salt and pepper, fry to a light
brown, and eat while hot. It takes the stomach
of a lumberjack to digest this, but it is a favorite
variant in frontier diet.
Pork and Hardtack. — Soak hardtack in water
until it is partly softened. Drop it into hot pork
fat, and cook. A soldier's resource.
— Same
Hajn, Fried. as bacon. Parboil, first,
or
for eight minutes,
ten if hard and salty.
Ham and Fggs. — Same as bacon and eggs.
Ham, — Broiled. If salty, parboil first. Cut
rather thick slices, pepper them, and broil five min-
utes. Ham that has been boiled is best for broil-
ing. A little mustard may be spread on the slices
when served.
—
Ham, Boiled. Wash the ham, and let it soak
over night in cold water. In the morning, cover
it well with fresh water, bring to a boil, and hang
the kettle high over the fire where it will boil
gently until dinner time. When the bone on the
under side leaves the meat readily, the ham is done.
If you have eggs, the nicest way to serve a boiled
ham is to remove the skin, brush over the top of
ham with yolk of egg, sprinkle thickly with finely
grated crumbs or cracker-dust, and brown in an
oven.
Ham and Macaroni, — " Boil an inch-thick slice
of ham half an hour, at the same time boiling the
required amount of macaroni in salted water.
When the macaroni is done, drain off the water and
put in a baking dish and pour over it a can of
tomatoes, which should be seasoned with salt and
pepper. Place slice of ham on top, and bake half
an hour. A little grated cheese is an improvement
when mixed with the macaroni, before adding the
tomatoes." {Arthur Chapman.)
Ham Chow. — Slice the required amount of po-
tatoes in thin slices, season with salt and pepper^
and place in baking dish. Add one can of toma-
toes. Cover and cook for an hour. Then place
slices of boiled ham, or some well seasoned chops,
over the potato and tomato mixture, return ô the
oven without the cover, and bake half an hour.
Thinly sliced bacon will take the place of ham or
chops, but must only be left in the oven a few
minutes. (Same.)
Pork Sausages. — Cut links apart, prick each
with a fork so it will not burst in cooking, and
broil on forked stick; or, lay in cold frying-pan,
and fry fifteen to twenty minutes over a slow fire,
moving them about so they will brown evenly all
over. Serve with mashed potatoes, over which
pour the fat from the pan. Apples fried to a light
brown in the sausage grease are a pleasant accom-
paniment.
Corned Beef, Boiled. —
Put the ham mto ênough
CURED MEATS 335
cold water to cover it. Let it come slowly to a
boil, and then merely simmer until done. Time,
about one-half hour to each pound. Vegetables
may be added toward the end, as directed on page
299. If not to be used until the next day, leave
the meat in its liquor, weighted down under the
surface by a clean rock.
Corned Beef Hash. —
Chop some canned corned
beef fine with sliced onions. Hash up with freshly
boiled potatoes, two parts potatoes to one of meat.
Season highly with pepper (no salt), and some
mustard if liked. Put a little pork fat in a frying-
pan, melt, add hash, and cook until nearly dry
and a brown crust has formed. Dehydrated pota-
toes and onions can be used according to directions
on packages.
Stew luith Canned Meat. —
Peel and slice some
Onions. If the meat has much fat, melt it if not, ;
melt a little pork fat. Add onions, and fry until

brown. Mix some flour into a smooth batter with
cold water, season with pepper and salt, and pour
into the camp kettle. Stir the whole well together.
Cut meat into slices, put into the kettle, and heat
through.
Lobscouse. — Boil corned beef as above (if very
salty, parboil and then change the water),
first,
.^^bout thirty minutes before it is done add sliced

Vôtatoes and hardtack.
SluTugullion. — When the commissariat is re-
duced corned beef, and hardtack, try this
to bacon,
sailor's dish, described by Jack London: Fry half
d dozen slices of bacon, add fragments of hard-
tack, then two cups of water, and stir briskly over
the fire; in a few minutes mix in with it slices
of canned corned beef; season well with peppei
and salt.
Dried Beef, Creamed. — Slice 3 oz. of dried beef
into thin shavings, Pour over it a
or chop fine.
pint of boiling water, and let it stand two minutes.
Turn off water, and drain beef dry. Heat a
heaped tablespoonful of butter in *:he frying-pan;
then add the beef. Cook three minutes, stirring all
the time. Then pour on 34 pi^^t cold milk. Mix
4 tablespoonfuls milk with i teaspoonful flour, and
stir into the beef in the pan. Add an egg, if you
have it. Cook two minutes longer and serve at
once.
Canned Meats. — Never eat any that has been
left standing open in the can. It is dangerous.
If any has been left over, remove it to a clean
vessel and keep in a cool place.
Canned corned beef and the like should not be
eaten cold out of the can if you can help it. Place
the can in water and boil it about ten minutes: the
meat is more wholesome this way.
Cured Venison. —
" Cut off the worst of the
blackened casing and slice into steaks an inch thick.
Dredge these with flour, salt, and pepper, and lay
in hot bacon grease in a frying-pan. Pour in a
small cup of water, cover tightly, and allow to
steam until the water is gone. Then remove the
cover, and brown." {Kathrene Pinkerton.)
—
Cured Fish. Salt Fish requires from twelve
to thirty-six hours' soaking, flesh downward, in cold
water before cooking, depending on the hardness
and dryness of the fish. Change the water two or
three times to remove surplus salt. Start in cold
water, then, and boil until the flesh parts from the
bones. When done, cover with bits of butter, or
serve with one of the sauces given in the chapter
on Fish.
Broiled Salt Fish. —
Freshen the flakes of fish
by soaking in cold water. Broil over the coals, and
serve with potatoes.
Stewed Codfish. —
Soak over night in plenty of
cold water, or one hour in tepid water. Put in
pot of fresh, cold water, and heat gradually until
soft. Do not boil the fish or it will get hard.
Serve with boiled potatoes, and with white sauce
made as directed under Fish.
(2) Put two tablespoonfuls of butter in a pan;
when melted add one tablespoonful of flour, stir'
CURED MEATS 337
ring constantly; then a cup of rich milk and somp
pepper; then half a pint of desiccated codfish. Stir
until boiling. Serve on toast, if you have light
bread.
Codfish Hash. — Prepare salt codfish as above,
When soft, mash with potatoes and onions, season
with pepper, and fry like corned beef hash.
Codfish Balls. —
Shred the fish into small pieces.
Peel some potatoes. Use one pint of fish to one
quart of raw potatoes. Put them in a pot, cover
with boiling water, cook till potatoes are soft,
drain water off, mash fish and potatoes together,
and beat light with a fork. Add a tablespoonful
of butter and season with pepper. Shape into flat-
tened balls, and fry in very hot fat deep enough
to cover.
Smoked Herrings. — (i) Clean, and remove the
skin. Toast on a stick over the coals.
(2) Scald in boiling water till the skin curia
up, then remove head, tail, and skin. Clean well.
Put into frying-pan with a little butter or lard.
Fry gently a few minutes, dropping in a little
vinegar.
Smoked —
Lay them on a slightly greased
Sprats.
plate and them in an oven until heated through.
set
Canned Salmon, Creamed. —
Cut into dice.
Heat about a pint of them in one-half pint milk.
Season with salt and Cayenne pepper. Cold cooked
fish of any kind can be served in this wâ)^
Canned Salmon, Scalloped. —
Rub two teaspoon-
fuls of butter and a tablespoonful of flour together.
Stir this into boiling milk. Cut two pounds of
canned salmon into dice. Put a layer of the sauce
in bottom of a dish, then a layer of salmon.
Sprinkle with salt, Cayenne pepper, and grated
bread crumbs. Repeat alternate layers until dish
is full, having the last layer sauce, which is sprinkled
with crumbs and bits of butter. Bake in very hot

oven untrl browned (about ten minutes).
Canned Salmon on Toast. —
Dip slices of stale
bread in smoking-hot lard,. They will brown at
once. Drain them. Heat a pint of salmon, picked
into flakes, season with salt and Cayenne, and turn
intoit a cupful of melted butter. Heat in pan. Stir
in one egg, beaten light, with three tablespoonfuls
evaporated milk not thinned. Pour the mixture on
the fried bread.
Sardines on Toast. —
Fry them and give them a
dash of red pepper. They are better if wiped free
of oil, dipped into whipped egg, sprinkled thickly
with cracker crumbs, fried, and served on buttered
toast.
(2) Drain and remove skins from one dozen
sardines, put a tablespoonful of butter in the pan,
with two teaspoonfuls anchovy paste, and a little
tabasco. Lay the sardines carefully in the pan.
When well heated through, serve each on a tiny
strip of toast.
Eggs. —
Desiccated Egg. —
The baker's egg mentioned in
the chapter on Provisions is in granules about the
size of coarse sand. It is prepared for use by first
soaking about two hours in cold or one hour in luke-
warm water. Hot water must not be used. Solu-
tion can be quickened by occasional stirring. The
proportion is one tablespoonful of egg to two of
water, which is about the equivalent of one fresh egg.
Use just like fresh eggs in baking, etc., and for
scrambled eggs or omelets. Of course, the desic-
cated powder cannot be fried, boiled, or poached.
Fried Eggs. —
Have the frying-pan scrupulously
clean. Put in just enough butter, dripping, or
other fat, to prevent the eggs sticking. Break an
egg with a smart but gentle crack on the side of a
cup, and drop it in the cup without breaking yolk.
Otherwise you might drop a bad one in the pan and
spoil the whole mess. Pour the egg slowly into the
pan so that the albumen thickens over the yolk in-'
stead of spreading itself out like a pancake. The
fire should be moderate. In two or three minute?
they will be done. Eggs fried longer than this, or
on both side§8 are, leathery and unwholesomcc
oURED MEATS 339
Scrambled Eggs. — Put into a well-greased pan
as many eggs as it will hold separately, each yolk
being whole. When the w^hites have begun to set,
stir from bottom of pan until done (buttery, not
leathery). Add a piece of butter, pepper, and salt.
Another way is to beat the eggs with a spoon. To
five eggs add one-fourth teaspoonful salt. Heat one
tablespoonful butter in the frying-pan. Stir in the
eggs, and continue stirring until eggs set. Before
they toughen, turn them out promptly into a warm
dish.
Scrambled Eggs, Fancy, —
After turning in five
eggs as above, add a cupful of canned tomatoes,
drained and chopped quite fine or, chopped ham or
;
bacon instead of tomatoes.

Plain Omelet. — It is better to make two or three
small omelets than to attempt one large one.
Scrape the pan and wipe it dry after each omelet
is made. Use little salt: it keeps the eggs from
rising. Heat the fat in the pan very gradually, but
get it hot almost to the browning point.
Beat four eggs just enough to break them well;
or, break into a bowl with four tablespoonfuls milk,
and w^hip thoroughly. Add a little salt. Put two
heaped teaspoonfuls of butter in the pan and heat
as above. Pour egg into pan, and tilt the pan
forward so that the egg flows to the far side. As
soon as the egg begins to set, draw it up to the
raised side of the pan with a knife. Beginning
then at the left hand, turn the egg over in small
folds until the lower part of the pan is reached, and
the omelet has been rolled into a complete fold.
Let the omelet rest a few seconds, and then turn out
into a hot dish. Work rapidly throughout, so that
the omelet is creamy instead of tough. It should
be of a rich yellow color.
Ham Omelet.— Cut raw ham into dice. Fry.
Turn the beaten eggs over it and cook as above.
Bacon can be used instead of ham.
Fancy Omelets. —Take tender meat, game, fish,
or vegetable, hash it fine, heat it in white sauce

(see page 325), and spread this over the omelet
before you begin to fold it; or they can be put in
with the eggs. Jam, jelly, or preserved fruit may
be used in a similar way (two tablespoonfuls, say,
of marmalade to six eggs).
Rum Omelet. — Beat three eggs, add a very small
pinch of salt, a teaspoonful of powdered sugar, a
sliceof butter, and a tablespoonful of rum. Fry
as described above. Lay the omelet on a hot dish,
pour around it one-half tumberful of rum that has
been warmed in a pan, light it, and serve with its
blue flame rising round it.

Poached Eggs. —
Put a pint of water in the fry-
ing pan, with one-half teaspoonful of salt. If you
have vinegar, add two teaspoonfuls to the water:
it keeps the whites from running too much. Bring
the water to a gentle boil. Break the eggs sep-
arately into a saucer and slide them into the water
Let the water simmer not longer than three minutes,
meantime ladling spoonfuls of it over the yolks.
Have on a very hot plate.
toast already buttered
Lay eggs carefully on it. Eat at once. This may
be varied by moistening the toast with hot milk.
Eggs, Boiled. —
Eggs are boiled soft in two and
one-half to three minutes, depending upon size and
freshness. If wanted hard boiled, put them in cold
water, bring to a boil, and keep it up for twenty
minutes. The yolk will then be mealy and whole-
iome. Eggs boiled between these extremes are
either clammy or tough, and indigestible. To boil
eggs, soft, if you have no watch put them in cold
:
water and set the pot over the fire. Watch the
water; when it begins to sing slightly, or when the
first little bubbles arise, the eggs are done to a turn.
Eggs, Roasted. —This can be done by covering

the eggs with hot ashes and embers, but the shells
must be cracked a little at one end to prevent them
exploding.
Eggs, Stirred. — Make half a cup of rich gravy.
Melt a tablespoon of butter in a pan and add the
^riivv. When hissing hot. stir in five beaten pcrcrs'
CURED MEATS 341
until they thicken. Season with half a teaspoonful

of salt, a dash of pepper, sprinkle with parsley, and
serve on toast-
/
CHAPTER XX
CAMP COOKERY
Breadstuffs and Cereals
When men must bake for themselves they gen-
erally make biscuit, biscuit-loaf, flap-jacks, or corn
bread. Bread leavened with yeast is either beyond
their skill or too troublesome to make out of doors;
so baking powder is the mainstay of the camp.
Generally the batch is a failure. To paraphrase
Tom Hood,
Who has not met with camp-made bread,

Rolled out of putty and weighted with lead?
It need not be so. Just as good biscuit or johnny

cake can be baked before a log fire in the woods as
m a kitchen range. Bread making is a chemical
process. Follow directions; pay close attention to
details, as a chemist does, from building the fire to
testing the loaf with a sliver. It does require ex-
perience or a special knack to guess quantities ac-
curately, but none at all to measure them.
In general, biscuit or other small cakes should be
baked quickly by ardent heat large loaves require
;
a slow, even heat, so that the outside will not harden

until the inside is nearly done.
"
The way to bake in a reflector or in a '' baker
has been shown in the chapter on Meats. If you
have neither of these utensils, there are other ways.
Baking in a Dutch Oven. — This is a cast-iron
pot with flaring sides and short legs, fitted with a
thick iron cover, the rim of which is turned up to
342
5READS1'UFFS 343
hold a layer of coals on top. If it were not for it;
weight it would be the best oven for outdoor use,
since it not only bakes but cooks the meat or pone
in its own steam.
Place the Dutch oven and its lid separately or.
the fire. Get the bottom moderately hot, and the

lid very hot (but not red, lest it warp). Grease
the bottom and sprinkle flour over it, put in the
bread or biscuits, set cover on, rake a thin layer of
coals out in front of the fire, stand oven on them,
and cover lid thickly witii more live coals. Re-
plenish occasionally. Have a stout pot-hook to lift
lid with, so you can inspect progress of baking once
or twice.
The sheet-steel oven mentioned in Chapter VII
can be used in a similar way, or one of the pots
made for fireless cookers, or a pudding pan inverted
over a slightly smaller one but with such thin uten-
;
sils you must use a more moderate heat, of course,
and watch the baking carefully lest you burn it.

Baking in a Kettle. —
Every fixed camp that has
no stove should have a bake-hole, if for nothing else
than baking beans. The hole can be dug anywhere,
but it is best in the side of a bank or knoll, so that
an opening can be left in front to rake out of, and
for drainage in case of rain. Line it with stones,
as they hold heat and keep the sides from crumbling.
Have the completed hole a little larger than youi
baking kettle.
Build a hardwood fire in and above the hole ani
keep it going until the stones or earth are very
hot (not less than half an hour). Rake out most
of the coals and ashes, put in the oake-pot, which
must have a tight-fitting lid, cover with ashes and
then wîth live coals; and, if a long heating is re-
quired, keep a small fire going on top. Close the
mouth of the oven with a flav rock. This is the
way for beans or for braising meat.
Bread is not to be baked in the kettle alone, be-*
cause the sides are vertical and you would have a
sweet time getting the bread out; but if you have a
pudding-pan that will go inside the kettle, well and
good. Put three or four pebbles in the bottom of
the kettle for the pan to rest on, so the dough will
not burn.
A camper can make bread in almost any
shifty
thing. have even baked beans to perfection in 9
I
thin, soldered lard-pail, by first encasing it in clay.
Baking in the Ashes. —
Build a good fire on a
level bit of ground. When it has burned to coals
and the ground has thoroughly heated, rake awây
the embers, lightly drop the loaf on the hot earth,
pat it smooth, rake the embers back over the loaf
(some hot ashes first), and let it bake until no
dough will adhere to a sliver thrust to the center
of the loaf. This is the Australian damper. Ash
cakes are similarly baked (see page 352). Dirty?
No it isn't; try it.
Baking in a Frying-pan. —
Grease or flour a fry-
ing-pan and put a flat cake of biscuit-dough in it.
Rake some embers out in front of the fire and put
pan on them just long enough to form a little crust
on bottom of loaf. Then remove frorri embers, and,
with a short forked stick, the stub of which will
enter hole in end of handle, prop pan up before fire
at such angle that top of loaf will be exposed to heat.
Tu^n loaf now and
then, both sidewise and upside
down. Whenfirm enough to keep its shape, re-
move it, prop it by itself before the fire to finish
baking, and go on with a fresh loaf. tin plate A
may be used in place of the frying-pan.
If you have in your kit a shallow pudding-pan
of the right size, invert it over the dough in the pan
and heap embers on top or a second frying-pan can
;
be used in the same way. Another way, with one

pan and no cover, is described by Kathrene Pinker-
ton:
" Make a rich, moist baking-powder biscuit dough,
using double the amount of lard. The dough should be
so thin it can be smoothed with a knife. Heat a little lard
in a frying-pan and pour in the dough. A bannock
should never be baked in less than twenty-five minutes.
BREADSTUFFS 345
With a good cooking fire, the pan should be held thr e feet
above the blaze until the bannock has risen to twice its
original height. Then lower the pan and brown. Shake
the pan occasionally to see that the bannock is not burning.
When one side is done, slide the bannock onto a plate, heat
more lard in the pan, gently replace the bannock upside
down and brown again. The result is a golden-browo
loaf."
Baking on a Slab. — Heat a thick slab of non-

resinous green wood until the sap simmers. Then
proceed as with a frying-pan.
Baking on a Stick. —
Work dough into a ribbon
two inches wide. Get a club of sweet green wood
(birch, sassafras, maple), about two feet long and
three inches thick, peel large end, sharpen the other
and stick it into ground, leaning toward fire.
When sap simmers wind dough spirally around
peeled end. Turn occasionally. Several sticks can
be baking at once. Bread for one man's meal can
be quickly baked on a peeled stick as thick as a
broomstick, holding over fire and turning. This is
*'
corkscrew bread."
Clay Oven. —
In fixed camp, if you have no oven,
f. good substitute can soon be made in a clay bank
or steep knoll near by. Dig down the bank to a
vertical front. Back from this front, about 4
feet, drive a 4 or 5-inch stake down to what will
be the bottom level of the oven. Draw the stake
out, thus leaving a hole for flue. It is best to drive
the stake before excavating, as otherwise it might
cause the roof of your oven to cave in from the
shock of driving. Now, from the bottom of the
face, dig a horizontal hole back to the flue, keeping
the entrance as small as you can, but enlarging the
interior and arching its top. When the oven is fin-
ished, wpt the whole interior, smooth it, and build
a small fire in the oven to gradually dry and harden
it.
To bake in such an oven : build a good fire in it of

split hardwood sticks, burning hard fcr
and keep it
an hour or tvso; then rake out the embers, lay your

^Jough on broad gre'^.n leaves (basswood- ^'-om
,346 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
choice) or on the naked floor, and close both the
door arid the flue with flat stones or bark.
If no bank or knoll lies handy, build a form foi
your oven by first setting up a row of green-stick
arches, like exaggerated croquet wickets, one behind
the other, and cover with sticks laid on horizontally
like a roof. At the rear, set up a round stake as
core for the chimney. Now plaster wet clay thickly
over all except the door. Let this dry naturally foi
a day in hot sunlight, or build a very small fire
within and feed it only as needed to keep up a
moderate heat. When the clay has hardened, give
it another coating, to fill up the cracks that have
appeared.Then give it a final firing.

To Mix Dough Without a Pan. When — bark
will peel, use a broad sheet of it (paper birch, bass-
wood, poplar, Cottonwood, slippery elm, etc.). It ij
easy to mix unleavened dough in the sack of flour
itself. Stand the latter horizontally where it can't
fall over. Scoop a bowl-shaped depression in top
of flour. Keep the right hand moving round while
you pour in a little water at a time from a vessel
held in the left. Sprinkle a little salt in. When a
thick, adhesive dough has formed, lift this out and
pat and work it into a round cake about inches2^
thick.
Wheat Bread and Biscuits. — When baking
powder is used, the secret of good bread is to handle
the dough as little as possible. After adding the
water, mix as rapidly as you can, not with the warm
hands, but with a big spoon or a wooden paddle.
To knead such bread, or roll it much, or even to
mould biscuits by hand instead of cutting them out,
would surely make your baking " sad." As soon as
water touches the flour, the baking powder begins
to give off gas. It is this gas, imprisoned in the
dough, that makes bread light. Squeezing or
moulding presses this gas out. The heat of the
hands turns such dough into Tom Hood's " putty.'
Biscuit Loaf. —
This is a standard camp bread,
because it bakes quickly. It is good so long as it
:
BREADSTUFFS 347
is not, but it dries out soon and will not keep. For
four men
3 pints flour,
3 heaping teaspoonfuls baking powder,
1 heaping teaspoonful sah,
2 heaping tablespoonfuls cold grease,
I scant pint cold water.
Amount of water varies according to quality of

flour. Baking powders vary in strength; follow
directions on can.
Mix thoroughly, wîth big spoon or wooden pad-
dle, first the baking powder with the flour, and
then the salt. Rub into this the cold grease (which
may be lard, cold pork fat, drippings, or bear's
grease), until there are no lumps left and no grease
adhering to bottom of pan. This is a little tedious,
but don't shirk it. Then stir in the water and work
it wîth spoon until you have a rather stiff dough.
Have the pan greased. Turn the loaf into it, and
bake. Test center of loaf with a sliver when you
think it probably done. When no dough adheres,
remove bread. All hot breads should be broken
with the hands, never cut.
To freshen any that is left over and dried out,
sprinkle a little water over it and heat through.
This can be done but once.
Biscuit. —
These are baked in a reflector (i 2-inch
holds I dozen, 1 i^
dozen), unless a
8-inch holds
camp stove is dug. Build the
carried or an oven is
fire high. Make dough as in the preceding recipe,

which is enough for two dozen biscuits, i^lop the
mass of dough to one side of pan, dust flour on bot-
tom of pan, flop dough back over it, dust flour on
top of loaf. Now rub some flour over the bread
board, flour your hands, and gently lift loaf on
board. Flour the bottle or bit of peeled sapling
that you use as rolling-pin, also the edges of can or
can cover used as biscuit cutter. Gently roll loaf
to three-quarter-inch thickness. Stamp out the
biscuit and lay them in pan. Roll out the culls and
cnake biscuit of them, too. Bake until enee oi front
row turns brown reverse pan and continue until
;
rear row is similarly done. Time, twenty to

twenty-five minutes in a reflector, ten to fifteen
minutes in a closed oven.
Dropped Biscuit. —
These do away with bread-
board, rolling-pin, and most of the work, yet are
about as good as stamped biscuit. Use same pro-
portions as above, except turn in enough water to
make a thick batter —
one that will drop lazily
from a spoon. In mixing, do not stir the batter
more than necessary to smooth out all lumps. Drop
from a big spoon into the greased bake-pan.
—
Army Bread. This is easier to make than biscuit
dough, since there is no grease to rub in, but it takes
longer to bake. It keeps fresh longer than yeast
bread, does not dry up in a week, nor mould, and
is more wholesome than biscuit. It is the only
baking-powder bread I know of that is good to eat
cold —
in fact, it is best that way.
1 quart flour,
I teaspoonful salt,
I tablespoonful sugar,
z heaped teaspoonfuls baking powder.
Mix the dry ingredients thoroughly. Then stir

In enough cold water (about i^ pints) to make a
thick batter that will pour out level. Mix rapidly
with spoon until smooth, and pour at once into
bake-pan. Bake about forty-five minutes, or until
no dough adheres to a sliver. Above quantity
makes a i^-pound loaf (say 9x5x3 inches).
For variety, substitute for the sugar two or thret-
tablespoonfuls of molasses, and add one to two tea'
spoonfuls of ginger.
Breakfast Rolls. —
1 quart flour,
2 level tablespoonfuls butter,
I egg,
I teaspoonful baking powder,
1 pint cold milk (or enough to make a soft dough).
Rub butter and flour well together, add beaten

BREADSTUFFS 349
egg, a pinch of salt, and the milk, till a soft dough
is mixed. Form into rolls and bake quickly.
Salt-rising Bread. — This smells to heaven while
it is fermenting, but is a welcome change after a
long diet of baking-powder breadstulis. For a
baking of two or three loaves take about a pint of
moderately warm water (a pleasant heat to the
hand) and stir into it as much flour as will make a
good batter, not too thick. Add to this one-half
teaspoonful salt,not more. Set the vessel in a pan
of moderately warm water, within a little distance
of a fire, or in sunlight. The water must not be
allowed to cool much below the original heat, more
vvarm^ water being added to pan as required.
In six to eight hours the whole will be in active
fermentation, when the dough must be mixed with
it, and as much warm water (milk, if you have it)
as you require. Knead the mass till it is tough and

does not stick to the board. Make up your loaves^
and keep them warmly covered near the fire till
they rise. They must be baked as soon as this sec-
ond rising takes place for, unless the rising is used
;
immediately on reaching its height, it sinks to rise

no more.
Sour-dough Bread. —
Mix a pail of batter from
plain flour and wâter, and hang it up in a warm
place until the batter sours. Then add salt and
soda (not baking powder) and a spoonful of sugar,
thicken with flour to a stiff dough, knead thor-
oughly, work into small loaves, and place them
before the fire to rise. Then bake.
The following is by Mrs. Pinkerton;
" The sour-dough can ranks high in the Hst of woods
time-savers. It is easy to manipulate, will supply yeast
for both cakes and bread, and requires only one start, for
it improves with age. Our sour-dough pail has now been
going continuously for nine months and is getting betiei
all the time.
"To make the sourings,' stir two cups of flour, two
'
tablespoons of sugar and one of salt in sufficient water

to make a creamy batter. Stir in a tablespoonful of vin-
egar and set near a fire or in the sun to sour. One author
has said it requires a running start of thirty-six hours.'
'
Two days' souring is better. Do not be dismayed by the

odor. The woods axiom is, the sourer the better,' and it
'
will not be at its best the first few days. Its great ad-
vantage for campers lies in the fact that it will raise either
bread or pancakes in any temperature above freezing.
" Pancakes should be set in the evening. Beat until
smooth water and flour in proper proportions for batter.
;
Stir this into the sourings in the sour dough can. This
' '
rises overnight. In the morning the amount of batter

necessary for breakfast should be taken out, leaving
enough Aêast for the next day. Into enough batter for
two we stir two tablespoons of molasses, one teaspoon of
salt, and one half teaspoon of soda, the last two dissolved
in hot water. Then, small cakes are better and more
easily handled than those the size of the frying pan.
" A quick, hot fire is necessary for pancakes, although,
when frying in a pan, care must be taken or they will
burn. Once a cake has burned to the pan you may as well
stop and clean the pan thoroughly or every succeeding
cake will be spoiled.
" Uneaten pancakes should be broken up and dropped
into the sourings. It improves the cakes. Some woods-
men are almost superstitious about the mixture, and, with
them, the sour dough pail rivals the garbage can as a re-
ceptacle for uneaten foods. When the yeast loses its sour-
ness from overwork a tablespoon of vinegar will revive it.
The sourings can be carried in a pail or in a push-top
' '
tin. If you use the latter be sure to allow plenty of room

for expansion. VVe still carry '^n a blanket evidences of
"
too active sourings.'
'
To Raise Bread in a Pot. —

Set the dough to rise
over a very few embers, keeping the pot turned as
the loaf rises. When equally risen all around, put
hot ashes under the pot and upon the lid, taking
care that the heat be not too fierce at first.
Lungwort Bread. —
On the bark of maples, and
sometimes of beeches and birches, in the northern
woods, there grows a green, broad-leaved lichen
variously known as lungwort, liverwort, lung-
lichen, and lung-moss, which is an excellent sub-
stitute for yeast. This is an altogether different
growth from the plants commonly called lung-
wort and liverwort — I believe its scientific name
is Sticta pulmonacea. This I'chen is partly made
up of fungus, which does the business of raising
BREADSTUFFS 351
dough. Gather a little it and steep it over night

of
in lukewarm water, setnear the embers, but not
near enough to get overheated. In the morning,
pour off the infusion and mix it with enough Hour
to make a batter, beating it up with a spoon. Place

this " sponge " in a warm can or pail, cover with a
cloth, and set it near the fire to work. By evening
it will have risen. Leaven your dough with this
(saving some of the sponge for a future baking),
let the bread rise before the fire that night, and by
mornmg it wÛ be ready to bake.
It takes but little of the original sponge to leaven
a large mass of dough (but see that it never
freezes), and it can be kept good for months.
Unleavened Bread. —Quickly made, wholesome,
and good for a change. Keeps like hardtack.
2^ pints flour,
,
I tablespoonful salt (scant),
I tablespoonful sugar.
Mix with water to stiff dough, and knead and

pull until lively. Roll out thin as a soda cracker,
score w>th knife, and bake. Unleavened bread that
is to be carried for a long time must be mixed with
as little water as possible (merely dampened enough

to make it adhere), for if any moisture is left in it
after baking, it will mould.
A teaspoonful of lard worked in with the floui
improves the taste, but the bread will not keep for-
ever, as it would without the lard. If lard is used,
you may as well make a good imitation of Maryland
biscuit while you are about it. Lay the dough out
on a board and beat it lustily with a paddle until it
becomes elastic, then bake.
—
Dough Gods. '' Take ^
cupful of flour, I
small teaspoonful of baking powder, ^4 teaspoonful
of salt, and a slice of fat bacon minced fine as pos-
sible. Mix thoroughly in your bread-pan and add
water slowly, stirring and wôrking till you have a
tairly stiff dough. Flour the loaf, top and bottom,
flour your hands and pat the dough out into a couple
3S2 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
of big cakes about half an inch thick. Bake in the
ashes, or in the frying-pan, . This is the old way
. .
of baking with bacon instead of rendered grease or

lard, used by men who carried nothing they could do
without, and whose only food staples were flour,
bacon, baking-powder, and salt." {Edivard Cave.)
—
Corn Bread. Plain corn bread, without flour,
milk, or egg, is hard to make eatable without a
Dutch oven to bake it in. Even so, it is generally
spoiled by being baked too fast and not long enough
to be done inside.
Corn Pone. —
I quart meal,
I teaspoonful salt,
I pint i.varm (but not scalding) water (ij^ pints for
old meal).
Stir together until light. Bake to a nice brown

all around (about forty-five minutes), and let it
sweat fifteen minutes longer in the closed oven,
removed from the fire. Yellow meal generally re-
quires more water than white. Freshly ground
meal is much better than old.
Corn Dodgers. —
Same as above, but mix to a
stiff dough, and form into cylindrical dodgers four
or five inches long and i}4 inches diameter, by roll-
ing between the hands. Have frying-pan very hot,
grease it a little, and put dodgers on as you roll
them out. As soon as they have browned, pu^t them
in oven and bake thoroughly.
Ash Cake. — Same kind of dough. Form it intc
balls as big as hen's eggs, roll in dry flour, lay in hot
ashes, and cover completely with them.
Johnny-eake. '' —
Mix at home, before starting, i
quart of yellow, granulated corn meal, i pint of
white flour, '^ cup of sugar, i teaspoonful of salt, 4
teaspoonfuls of baking-powder. In camp it should
be mixed in the pan to make a fairly heavy batter
and allowed to stand for a few minutes before frying
so that it becomes light and puffy. It should then
be dropped by spoonfuls, without further stirring,
.
BREADSTUFFS 353
into the hot, greased pan, and not turned until the
top has begun to set. The bacon grease takes the
place of butter.
" If less water
is used, the entire mixture may be
put in the frying-pan at once, baked from the bot-

tom up over coals until the top has set, and then
turned. It makes delicious johnny-cake. Try
rolling the trout in a little of the dry mixture."
{Warwick S. Carpenter.)
Corn Bread {Superior) —
I pint corn mea),
1 pint flour,
3 tablespoonfuls sugar,
2 heaped tablespoonfuls butter,
3 teaspoonfuls baking powder,
r teaspoonful salt,
2 eggs,
I pint (or more) milk.
Rub butter and sugar together. Add the beaten

eggs then the milk.
; Sift the salt and baking pow-
der into the meal and flour. Pour the liquid over
the dry ingredients, beating well. Pour batter into
well-greased pan, and bake thirty to forty minutes
in moderately hot oven. Can also be made into
muffins.
Corn Batter Bread. —
1 pint corn meal,
2,pints milk (or water),
2 eggs,
1 teaspoonful salt.
Beat the eggs light; add the salt; then the meal
and milk, gradually, until well blended. Bake
about thirty minutes. This is the standard break-
fast bread of the South, easily made, and (if the
meal is freshly ground) delicious. A little boiled
rice, or hominy grits, may be substituted for oart
of the meal.
—
Snow Bread. After a fall of light, feathery
snow, superior corn bread may be made by stirring
together
I quart corn meal,
Yz teaspoonful soda,
I teaspoonful salt,
I tablespoonful lard.
Then, in a cool placewhere the snow will not

melt, stir into above one quart light snow. Bake
about forty minutes in rather hot oven. Snow, for
some unknown reason, has the same effect on bread
as eggs have, two tablespoonfuls of snow equaling
one egg. It can also be used in making batter for
pancakes, or puddings, the batter being made rather
thick, and the snow mixed with each cake just be-
fore putting in the pan.
Substitute for Baking Soda. —
Take the white of
wood ashes, same quantity as you would use of soda,
and mix dry with the flour. It makes bread rise
the same as soda, and you can't tell the difference.
The best ashes are those of hickory, dogwood, sugar
maple, and corncobs but the ashes of beech, ash,
;
buckeye, balsam poplar, and yellow poplar are also

good.
"Gritted Bread.'* —
When green corn has just
passed from the tucket, or soft and milky stage, and
has become too hard for boiling, but is still too soft
for grinding into meal, make a " gritter," as fol-
lows: Take a piece of tin about 7 x 14 inches (un-
solder a lard pail by heating, and flatten the sides) ;
punch holes through it, close together, with a large
nail; bend the sheet into a half cylinder, rough side
out, like a horseradish grater; nail the edges to a
board somewhat longer and wider than the tin.
Then, holding the ear of corn pointing lengthwise
from you, grate it into a vessel held between the
knees.
The meal thus formed will need no water, but
can be mixed in its own milk. Salt it, and bake
quickly. "
The flavor of gritted bread " is a blend
of hot pone and roasting ears —

delectable Hard !
corn cap be grated by first soaking the ears over

night.
BREADSTUFF? 355
Pancakes. —
Plain Flapjacks. —
I quart flour,
1 teaspoonful salt,
2 teaspoonfuls sugar, or 4 of molasses,
2 level tablespoonfuls baking powder.
Rubin, dry, two heaped tablespoonfuls grease.

]f you have no grease, do without. Make a smooth
batter with cold milk (best) or water thin—
enough to pour from a spoon, but not too thin, or it
will take all day to bake enough for the party. Stir
well, to smooth out lumps. Set frying-pan level
over thin bed of coals, get it quite hot, and grease
with a piece of pork in split end of stick. Pan must
be hot enough to make batter sizzle as it touches,
and it should be polished. Pour from end of a big
spoon successively enough batter to fill pan within
one-half inch of rim. When cake is full of bubbles
and edges have stiffened, shuffle pan to make sure
that cake is free below and stiff enough to flip.
Then hold pan slanting in front of and away from
you, go through preliminary motion of flapping once
or twice to get the swing, then flip boldly so cake
will turn a somersault in the air, and catch it up-
side down. Beginners generally lack the nerve to
toss high enough. Grease pan anew and stir batter
every time before pouring. This is the " universal
pancake " that '*
Nessmuk " derided. Much better
and wholesomer are:
Effff Pancakes. —
Made same as above excepting
that you add two eggs, or their equivalent in desic-
c'ated egg.
Snow Pancakes. —
Instead of eggs, in the above
recipe, use four tablespoonfuls of freshly fallen
snow. Make the batter rather thick, and add some
clean, dry snow to each pancake before putting it in
the pan.
Mixed Cakes. — When
cold boiled rice is left
over, mix it half and half with flour, and proceed
as wjth flmjacks. It makes them tender. The bat-
356 CAMPING AND WOOt?CRAP-r
ter IS bestmixed with the water in which the rict
was boiled. Oatmeal, grits, or cold boiled potatoes,
may be used in the same way. Stewed dried fruit
is also a good addition; mix the flour with their
juice instead of water.

Corn Batter Cakes. —
y2 pint corn meal,
J4 pint flour,
I heaped teaspoonful baking powder,
I heaped teaspoonful sugar or 2 molassfew,
1 level teaspoonful salt.
After mixing the dry ingredients thoroughly, add

cold water, a little at a time, stirring briskly, until
a rather thick batter results. Bake like flapjacks
Wholesomer than plain flour flapjacks. These are
better with an egg or two added, and if mixed with
milk instead of water. Snow can be substituted
for eggs, as described above.
Buckwheat Cakes. —
1 pint buckwheat flour,
Yz pint wheat flour,

2 tablespoonfuls baking powder,
J/2 teaspoonful salt.
Mix to a thin batter, preferably with milk. A

couple of eggs make them light, or make snow cakes.
Syrup. —
Mix maple or brown sugar with just
enough water to dissolve it, and heat until clear.
If white sugar is used, caramel it by putting it dry
in a pan and heating until browned ; then add water
to dissolve it.
Toast, Fritters, Dumplings, Etc. —

Stale Bread. —
Biscuit or bread left over and dried
out can be freshened for an hour or two by dipping
quickly in and out of water and placing in the baker
until heated through; or, the biscuit may be cut
open, slightly moistened, and toasted in a broiler.
If you have eggs, make a French toast by dipping
the slices in whipped eggs and frying them.
With milk, make milk toast: heat the milk, add a
BREADSTUFFS 357
chunk of butter and some salt, toast the bread, and
pour milk over it. Heat the milk gradually to the
simmering point, but do not let it boil, lest it burn.
Stale bread may also be dipped into smoking hot
grease. It will brown immediately. Stand it edge-
wise to drain, then lay on hot plate. Cut into dice
for soups.
Fried Quoits. — Make dough as for biscuit.
Plant a stick slanting in the ground near the fire.
Have another small, clean stick ready, and a frying-
pan of lard or butter heated sissing hot. There
must be enough grease in the pan to drown the
quoits. Take dough the size of a small hen's egg,
flatten it between the hands, make a hole in the cen-
ter like that of a doughnut, and quickly work it
(the dough, not the hole) into a flat ring of about
two inches inside diameter. Drop it flat into the
hot grease, turn almost immediately, and in a few
seconds it will be cooked.
When of a light brown color, fish it out with your
little stick and hang it on the slanting one before
the fire to keep hot. If the grease is of the right
temperature, the cooking of one quoit will occupy
just the same time as the molding of another, and
the product will be crisp and crumpety. If the
grease is not hot enough, a visit from your oldest
grandmother may be expected before midnight.
(Adapted from Lees and Clutterbuck.)
Fritters. —A dainty variety is added to the camp
bill-of-fare by fritters of fruit or vegetables, fish,
flesh, or fowl. They are especially relished in cold
weather, or when the butter supply is low. Being
easily made and quickly cooked, they fit any time or
place.
Theone essential of good and wholesome fritters
is plenty of fat to fry them in, and fat of the right
temperature. (The best friture is equal parts of
butter and lard.) Set the kettle where the fat will
heat slowly until needed; then closer over the fire
until a bluish smoke rises from the center of the
-kettle. Drop a cube of bread into ;*- ^^ ^ tajrns
358 CAMPING AND WOODCTvAFT
golden-brown in one minute, the fat is right. Then
keep the kettle at just this temperature. Make bat-
ter as follows:
Fritter Batter. —
I pint flour,
4 eggs,
I tablespoonful salt,
I pint water or milk,
3 tablespoonfuls butter or other grease.
Blend the salt and the yolks of the eggs (or

desiccated egg). Rub the butter into this; then the
flour, a little at a time then the water.
; Beat well,
and, if you have time, let it stand a while. If fresh
eggs are used, now beat the whites to a stiff froth
and stir them
in. When using, drop even spoonfuls
into the with a large spoon. When golden-
fat
brown, lift fritter out with a forked stick (not pierc-
ing), stand it up to drain, and serve very hot. The
base may be almost anything: sliced fruit, minced
game or meat, fish or shellfish, grated cheese, boiled
rice, grated potato or green corn, etc. Anything
cut to the size of an oyster is dipped in the batter
and then fried if minced or grated it is mixed with
;
the batter. Jam is spread on bread, covered with

another slice, the sandwich is cut into convenient
pieces, and these are dipped in the batter. Plain
fritters of batter alone are eaten with syrup. Those
made of corn meal instead of flour (mixed with
warm milk and egg) are particularly good. The
variety that can be served, even in camp, is well-
nigh endless.
Dumplings. —
Those of biscuit dough have al-
ready been mentioned. Wlien specially prepared
they may be made as follows:
J/2 pint flour,

teaspoonful baking powder,
I
J4 teaspoonful salt,
y2 teaspoonful sugar,
% pint milk=
The stew that they are to oe cooKed with should

BREADSTUFFS 359^
be nearly done before the dumplings are started.

Then mix the dry ingredients thoroughly. Wet
with the milk and stir quickly into a smooth ball.
Roll into a sheet three-quarters of an inch thick,
and cut like biscuit. Meantime bring the stew to a
sharp boil. Arrange dumplings on top of it, cover
the vessel, and cook exactly ten minutes.
Macaroni. —
Boiled Macaroni. —
For one-half pound macaroni
have not less than three quarts of salted water boil-
ing rapidly. Break the macaroni into short pieces,
and boil thirty-five minutes for the small, forty-five
minutes for the large. Then drain, and pour sauce
over it, or bake it. It is better if boiled in good
broth/ instead of water.
1 omato Sauce. —
Iquart can tomatoes,
1tablespoonful butter,
2 tablespoonfuls flour,
I teaspoonful salt,
y% teaspoonful pepper,
I teaspoonful sugar.
Rub the flour into the butter until they blend.

Brown this in a pan. Add the tomatoes and sim-
mer thirty minutes. Stir frequently. Add the sea-
soning, along with spices, you wish. This makes
if
enough sauce for i^ pounds macaroni, but it keeps

well in cold weather, and can be used with other
dishes. Good in combination with the following:
Macaroni with Cheese. —
After the macaroni is
boiled, put it in a pan with a little butter and some
grated cheese. Stir gently, and as soon as the cheese
is melted, serve or, pour the above sauce over it.
—
;
Macaroni, Baked. Boil first, as above. Drain.

Place in a deep pan, add a cupful of cold milk,
sprinkle in three tablespoonfuls grated cheese and
one tablespoonful butter. Then bake until brown.
Spaghetti.— This has the advantage over mac-
aroni of not being so bulky to carry but some do not
;
like it so well. Speaking of bulk, if you cannot

36o CAMPING AND WOODCf>AFT
carry canned tomatoes, a very good sauce is made
of Franco-American tomato puree (usually listed
under soups in grocers' catalogues) which is put up
in cans as small as ^
pint.
" Dice one large onion and
^4 lb. of bacon and
cook in a frying-pan until the onion is a light
brown. Mix with this one small can of tomato
puree, and, if you have it, a half cup of grated
cheese. Season well and combine this with the
spaghetti, which has been boiled, and blanched in
cold water. Place in the baker in moderate heat
for an hour. We
buy plain American cheese and
grate after drying: it should be packed in a push-top
tin well lined with oiled paper." {Mrs. Pinkerton.)
Porridge. —
Corn Meal Mush. — Mix two level tablespoon-
fuls salt with one quart meal. Bring four quarts
of water (for yellow meal, or half as much for fresh
white meal) to a hard boil in a two-gallon kettle.
Mix the salted meal with enough cold water to make
a batter that will run from the spoon this is to
;
prevent it from getting lumpy. With a large spoon

drop the batter into the boiling water, adding grad-
ually, so that water will not fall below boiling point.
Stir constantly for ten minutes. Then cover pot
and hang high enough above fire to insure against
it
scorching. Cook thus for one hour, stirring occa-

sionally, and thinning with boiling water if it gets
too thick.
Fried Mush. —
This, as Father Izaak said of
another dish, is " too good for any but very honest
men." The only drawback to this gastronomic
joy is that it takes a whole panful for one man.
As it is rather slow to fry, let each man perform
over the fire for himself. The mush should have
been poured into a greased pan the previous eve-
ning, and set in a cool place over night to harden.
Cut into slices one-third of an inch thick, and fry
in very hot grease until nicely browned. Eat with
syrup, or au naturel.
BREADSTUFFS 361
Polenta. — An Italian dish made from our native
."orn and decidedly superior to plain boiled mush.
Cook mush as above for one hour. Partly fill the
bake-pan with and pour over it either a good
it,
brown gravy, or the tomato sauce described under

macaroni. Then sprinkle with grated cheese. Set
the pan in the oven three minutes, or in the re-
flector five minutes, to bake a little.
Oatmeal Porridge. —
Rolled oats may be cooked
much more quickly than the old-fashioned oatmeal;
the latter not fit for the human stomach until it
is
has been boiled as long as corn mush. To two

quarts boiling water add one teaspoonful of salt,
stir in gradually a pint of rolled oats, and boil ten
minutes, stirring constantly, unless you have a dou-
ble boiler. The latter may be extemporized by
setting a small kettle inside a larger one that con-
tains some water, with a few pebbles at the bottom
to keep them apart.
Cereals. —
Rice, Boiled. — Good precedent to the contrary
notwithstanding, I contend that there is but one
way to boiland that is this (which is de-
rice,
scribed words of Captain Kenealy, whose
in the
Yachting Wrinkles is a book worth owning) :
''
To cook rice so that each grain will be plump,
dry, and separate, first, wash the measure of rice
thoroughly in cold, salted water. Then put it in
a pot of furiously boiling fiesh water ( i cupful
to 2 quarts water), no salt being added. Keep the
pot boiling hard for twenty minutes, but do not
stir. Then strain off the water, place the rice over
a very moderate fire (hang high over camp-fire),
and let it swell and dry for half an hour, in an un-
covered vessel. Remember that rice swells enor-
mously in cooking."
Plain boiled rice is not an appetising dish, par-
ticularly when you have no cream to eat it with;
but no other cereal lends itself so well to varied
combinations, not only as a breakfast food but also
Boiled
m soups and stews, in puddings, cakes, etc.
dried
rice with raisins is a standard dish; other
fruit may be used. As a left-over, rice can be fried,
made into pancakes or muffins, or utilized in a score
of other ways, each dish tasting different from the
others.
Rice, Fried. —
When boiled rice is left over,
spread 'it in a dish. When cold, cut it into cakes
and fry it, for a hasty meal. It is better, though,
in muffins.
Rice Muffins. — Mash very smooth half a pmt
boiled rice. slowly, stirring to a thinner paste,
Add
half a pint of milk, three beaten eggs, salt. Then
make into a stiff batter with flour. Bake like
dropped biscuits.
Rice with Onions. —Avery good dish, quickly
made, is boiled rice mixed with onions which have
been chopped up and fried.
Spanish Rice. *' —
Mix two cupfuls of boiled rice,
a large diced onion, and a can of tomato puree.
Season with plenty of cayenne pepper and bake in
the reflector for an hour." {Mrs. Pinkerton.)
Jlisotto. —
Fry a sliced onion brown in a table-
spoonful of butter. Add to this a pint of hot
water and half a pint of washed rice. Boil until
soft, addingmore hot water if needed. Heat half
teaspoon-
a pint canned tomatoes, and stir into it a
When
the rice is soft, salt it; add
ful of sugar.
and sprinkle over it a
the tomato; turn into a dish
heaped tablespoonful grated cheese.
jf
Rice, Curried. —
Same as Risotto, but put a tea-
spoonful of curry powder in the tomatoes and omit
cheese.
Grits, Boiled.— Put in plenty of boiling unsalted
water. Boil about thirty minutes; then salt and

drain.
Grits, Fried. — Same as fried rice.
''Breakfast Foods."'— According to directions
on packages.
Left-over Cereals.— St^ Mixed Cakes, page
355-
CHAPTER XXI
CAMP COOKERY
Vegetables. — Soups
Fresh Vegetables. —
Do not wash them until just
before they are to be cooked or eaten. They lose
flavor quickly after being washed. This is true
«ven of potatoes.
Fresh vegetables go into plenty of fast-boiling
salted water. Salt prevents their absorbing too
much water. The water should be boiling fast,
and there should be plenty of it. They should
be boiled rapidly, with the lid left off the pan. If
the water is as hot as it should be, the effect is
similar to that which we have noted in the case
of meats: the surface is coagulated into a water-
proof envelope which seals up the flavor instead
of letting it be soaked out. In making soup, the
rule is reversed.
Dried Vegetables. — Beans and peas are to be
cooked in unsalted water. If salted too soon they
become leathery and difficult to cook. Put them
in cold, fresh water, gradually heat to the boiling
point,and boil slowly.
Dehydrated Vegetables. —
When time permits
they should be soaked in cold water, according
first
to directions on package; this makes them more

tender. The onions and soup vegetables, however,
can be boiled without previous soaking. Heat
gradually to the boiling point and cook slowly in a
covered vessel until done. When served alone they
require butter for seasoning.
Canned Vegetables. —
The liquor of canned peas,
string beans, etc., is unfit for use and should be
363
thrown away; this does to tomatoes.
not apply
Cleaning Vegetables. — To
cabbage,clear
etc.,
from insects, immerse them, stalk upward, in plenty

of cold water salted in the proportion of a large
tablespoonful to two quarts. Vinegar may be used
instead of salt. Shake occasionally. The insects
will sink to bottom of pan.
Storing Vegetables. —
To keep vegetables, put
them in a cool, dry place (conditions similar to
those of a good cellar). Keep each kind away
from the other, or they will absorb each other's
flavor.
Potatoes, Boiled. — Pick
them out as nearly as
possible of one or some will boil to pieces be-
size,
fore the others are done; if necessary, cut them to
one size. Remove eyes and specks, and pare as
thinly as possible, for the best of the potato lies just
under the skin. As fast as pared, throw into cold
water, and leave until wanted. Put in furiously
boiling salted water, then hang kettle a little higher
where it will boil moderately, but do not let it
check. Test with a fork or sliver. When the
tubers are done (about twenty minutes for new po-
tatoes, thirty to forty minutes for old ones) drain
off all the water, dust some salt over the potatoes
(it absorbs the surface moisture, and keeps left-
overs from souring early), and let the pot stand
uncovered close to the fire, shaking it gently once
or twice, till the surface of each potato is dry and
powdery. Never leave potatoes in the water after
they are done they become watery.
—
;
Potatoes, Boiled in Their Jackets. After wash-

ing thoroughly, and gouging out the eyes, snip off
a bit from each end of the potato; this gives a vent,
to the steam and keeps potatoes from bursting open,
I prefer to put them in cold water and bring it
gradually to a boil, because the skin of the potatoi
contains an acid poison which is thus extracted.
The water in which potatoes have been boiled will
poison a dog. Of course we don't " eat 'em skin
and all," like the people in the nursery rhyme; but
VEGE'lABLES 365
there Is no use in driving the bitterness into a po-
tato. Boil gently, but continuously, throw in a
little salt now and then, drain,and dry before the
fire.
Potatoes, Steamed. Old — potatoes are better

steamed. A
rough-and-ready method is shown on
page 30.
Potatoes, Mashed. After — boiling, mash the po-
tatoes with a peeled stub of sapling, or a bottle,
and work into them some butter, if you have it,
and milk. " The more you beat 'em, the better
they be." Salt and pepper.
Potato Cakes. —
Mould some mashed potato into
cakes, season, and fry in deep fat. Or add egg and
bake them brown.
Potatoes, 5<3^^J.— "Nessmuk's" description cannot
be improved: "Scoop out a basin-like depression
under the fore-stick, three or four inches deep, and
large enough to hold the tubers when laid side by
side; fill it with bright hardwood coals and keep
up a strong heat for half an hour or more. Next,
clean out the hollow, place the potatoes in it, and
cover them with hot sand or ashes, topped with a
heap of glowing coals, and keep up all the heat you
like. In about forty minutes commence to try
them with a sharpened hardwood sliver; when this
will pass through them they are done and should
be. raked out at once. Run the- sliver through them
from end to end, to let the steam escape, and use
Immediately, as a roast potato quickly becomes
soggy and bitter."
Potatoes, Fried. —
Boiled or steamed potatoes
that have been left over may be sliced one-quarter
Inch thick, and fried.
Potatoes, Fried, Raw. —
Peel, and slice into
pieces half an Inch thick. Drop Into cold wâter
until frying-pan is ready. Put enough grease In
pan to completely Immerse the potatoes, and get it
very hot, as directed under Frying. Pour water
ofE potatoes, dry a slice in a clean cloth, drop It into
\the sizzling fat. and so on, one slice at a time.
Drying the slices avoids a splutter in the pan and
helps to keep from absorbing grease. If many
slices were dropped into the pan together, the heat
would be checked and the potatoes would get soggy
with grease. When the slices begin to turn a faint
brown, salt the potatoes, pour off the grease at once,
and brown a little in the dry pan. The outside
of each slice will then be crisp and the insides white
and deliciously mealy.
Potatoes, Lyonnaise. —
Fry one or more sliced
onions until they are turning yellowish, then add
sliced or diced previously boiled; keep
potatoes,
tossing now and
then until the potatoes are fried
somewhat yellow salt and pepper to taste you may
; ;
add chopped or dehydrated parsley. Drain and

serve.
Potatoes, Creamed. —
Cut I pint cold potatoes
in cubes or thin slices; put in pan and cover with
milk; cook gradually until milk is absorbed. Then
add I tablespoon butter, 1/2 teaspoonful salt, some
pepper, and parsley. Stir a few moments, and
serve.
Potatoes au Gratin. —
" Chop cold boiled potatoes
rather fine. Rub a tablespoonful of butter with one
of flour, add 3^ pint of milk, and season with salt
and pepper. When this mixture has boiled, mix it
with potatoes and turn into a baking dish. Sprinkle
grated cheese over the top, pressing it down into
the cream sauce. Bake in a quick oven until a
golden brown." (Arthur Chapman.)
Potatoes, Stewed. —
Cut cold boiled potatoes into
dice, season with salt, pepper, butter, and stew
gently in enough milk to cover them. Stir occa-
sionally to prevent scorching. Or, peel and slice
some raw potatoes. Cover with boiling water and
boil until tender. Pour off the water. Roll a large
piece of butter in flour, heat some milk, beat these
together until smooth, season with salt and pepper,
and bring to a boil. Then stew together five
minutes. Serve very hot.
Sweet Potatoes.. Boiled. —
Use a kettle with lid.
VEGETABLES 367
Select tubers of uniform size; wash; do not cut or
break the skins. Put them in boiling water, and
continue boiling until, when you pierce one with a
fork, you find it just a little hard in the center.
Drain by raising the cover only a trifle when kettle
is tilted, so as to keep in as much steam as possible.
Hang the kettle high over the fire, cover closely, and
let steam ten minutes.
Sweet Potatoes, Fried. — Skin the boiled potatoes
and cut them lengthwise. Dust the slices with salt
and pepper. Throw them into hot fat, browning
first one side, then the other. Serve very hot.
Potatoes and Onions, Hashed, — Slice two pota-
toes to one onion. Parboil together about fifteen
minutes in salted water. Pour off water, and drain.
Meantime be frying some bacon. When it is done,
remove it to a hot side dish, turn the vegetables into
the pan, and fry them to a light brown. Then falj
to, and enjoy a good thing!
Beans, Boiled,— Pick out all defective beans, and
wash the rest. It is best to soak the beans over
night; but if time does not permit, add one-quarter
teaspoonful of baking soda to the parboiling water.
In either case, start in fresh cold water, and parboil
one quart of beans (for four men with hearty appe-
tites) for one-half hour, or until one will pop open
when blown upon. At the same time parboil sep-
arately one pound fat salt pork. Remove scunf
from beans as it rises. Drain both; place beans
around pork, add two quarts boiling water, and boH
-slowly for two hours, or until tender. Drain, and
season with salt and pepper.
It does not hurt beans to boil all day, provided
boiling water is added from time to time, lest they
get dry and scorch. The longer they boil the more
digestible they become.
Left-over beans heated in a frying-pan with a
little bacon grease have a pleasant and distinctive
flavor.
Beans, Baked. — Soak and parboil as above, both
the beans and the pork. Then pour off the water
from the pork, gash the meat with a knife, spread
half of it over the bottom of the kettle, drain the
beans, pour them into the kettle, put the rest of

pork on top, sprinkle not more than one-half tea-
spoonful of salt o/er the beans, pepper liberally, and
if you have molasses, pour a tablespoonful over all;
otherwise a tablespoonful of sugar. Hang the kettle

high over the fire where it will not scorch, and bake
at least two hours; or, add enough boiling water to
just cover the beans, place kettle in bake-hole as di-
rected on page 297, and bake all night, being careful
that there are not enough embers with the ashes to
burn the beans.
If a pail with thin lid must be used for a bean-
pot, cover its top with a two or three-inch layer of
browse or green twigs before shoveling on the em-
bers.
Baked beans are strong food, ideal for active men
in cold weather. One can work harder and longer
on pork and beans, without feeling hungry, than on
any other food with which I am acquainted, save
bear meat. The ingredients are compact and easy
to transport; they keep indefinitely in any weather.
But when one is only beginning camp life he should
be careful not to overload his stomach with beans,
for they are rather indigestible until you have toned
up your stomach by hearty exercise in the open air.
—
Baked Beans for Transport. '* Cook the amoun-yb
thought necessary and, when finished, pour off every
last drop of water, spread them out on plates, and
let them dry over a slow fire, stirring constantly.
When dried they can be carried in a sack or any
other receptacle, and can be prepared to be eaten
within five minutes by the addition of hot water. If
the weather is cold, do not dry them, but spread them
out and stir around with a stick. They will freeze,
and if constantly stirred will be so many individual
beans, hard and frozen ; they can be handled or
carried like so many pebbles, and will keep indefi-
nitely. Add hot water and, as soon as thawed out.,
they are ready to eat." {Edward Ferguson.)
VEGETABLES 369
Onions, Boiled.-— More wholesome this way than
fried or baked. Like potatoes, they should be of as
uniform size as possible, for boiling. Do not boil
them in an iron vessel. Put them in enough boiling
salted water to cover them. Cover the kettle and
boil gently, lest the onions break. They are cooked
when a straw will pierce them (about an hour). If
you wish them mild, boil in two or three waters.
When cooked, drain and season with butter or drip-
ping, pepper, and salt. Boiled milk, thickened, is a
good sauce.
Green Corn. — If you happen to camp near a farm
in the " roasting-ear " season, you are in great luck.
The quickest way to roast an ear of corn is to cut
off the butt of the ear closely, so that the pith of
the cob is exposed, ream it out a little, impale the
cob lengthwise on the end of a long hardwood stick,

and turn over the coals.
To bake in the ashes: remove one outer husk,
stripping off the silk, break off about an inch of the
silk end, and twist end of husks tightly down over
the broken end. Then bake in the ashes and em-
bers as directed for potatoes. Time, about one
hour.
To boil: prepare as above, but tie the ends of
husks this preserves the sweetness of the corn
; Put
in enough boiling salted water to cover th« ears.
Boil thirty minutes. Like potatoes, corn is injured
by over-boiling. When cooked, cut off the bulf, and
remove the shucks.
Cold boiled corn may be cut from the cob
and fried, or mixed with mashed potatoes ai7d
fried.
Kedgeree. — Soak i pint split peas overnight?
drain them, add i pound rice, some salt, pepper, and
3^ teaspoonful ginger. Stir, and cover with i quart
water. Stir and cook slowly until done and almost
dr>\ Make into a mound, garnished with fried
onions and sliced hard-boiled eggs.
Greens. —One who camps early in the season can
add a toothsome dish, now and then, to his menu
by gathering fresh greens in the woods and marshes.*
As a salad (watercress, peppergrass, dandelion,
wild mustard, sorrel,
etc.) wash in cold salted
:
water, if necessary, although this abstracts some of

the flavor; dry immediately and thoroughly. Break
into convenient, pieces, rejecting tough stems. Pre-
pare a simple French dressing, thus:
I tablespoonful vinegar,
3 tablespoonfuls best olive oil,
J/2 teaspoonful salt,
%. teaspoonful black pepper.
Put salt and pepper in bowl, gradually add oil,

rubbing and mixing till salt is dissolved; then add
by degrees the vinegar, stirring continuously one
minute. In default of oil use cream and melted
butter; but plain vinegar, salt, and pepper will do.
Pour the dressing over the salad, turn the latter
upside down, mix well, and serve.
A scalded salad is prepared in camp by cutting
bacon into small dice, frying, adding vinegar, pep-
per, and a little salt to the grease, and pouring this,
scalding hot, over the greens.
Greens may be boiled with salt pork, bacon, or
other meat. To boil them separately: first soak
in cold salted water for a few minutes, then drain
well, and put into enough boiling salted water to
cover, pressing them do\i'n until the pot is full.
Cover, and boil steadily until tender, which may
be from twenty minutes to an hour, depending upon
kind of greens used. If the plants are a little
older than they should be, parboil in water to
which a little baVing soda has been added then ;
drain, and continue boiling in plain water, salted.

Some greens are improved by chopping fine aftei
boiling, putting in hot frying-pan with a table-
spoonful of butter and some salt and pepper, and
stirring until thoroughly heated.
Poke stalks are cooked like asparagus. They
*Nearly a hundred edible wild plants, besides mushrooms and
fruits,are discussed in Volume II, under head of Edible
Plants of the Wilderness-
VEGETABLES 371
should not be over four inches long, and should
show only a tuft of leaves at the top; if much
older than this, they are unwholesome. Wash the
stalks, scrape them, and lay in cold water for an
hour; then tie loosely in bundles, put in a kettle of
boiling water, and boil three-fourths of an hour,
or until tender; drain, lay on buttered toast, dust
with pepper and salt, cover with melted butter, and
serve.
Jerusalem artichokes must be watched when
boiling and removed as soon as tender; if left
longer in the water they harden.
Dock and sorrel may be cooked like spinach:
pick over and wash, drain, shake, and press out
adhering water; put in kettle with one cup water,
cover kettle, place over moderate fire, and steam
thus twenty minutes; then drain, chop very fine,,
and heat in frying-pan as directed above.
Mushrooms. —
Every one who camps in summet
should take with him a mushroom book, such as
Gibson's, Atkinson's, or Nina Marshall's. (Such
a book in pocket form, with colored illustrations,
isa desideratum.) Follow recipes in book. Mush-
rooms are very easy to prepare, cook quickly, and
offer a great variety of flavors. The following
general directions are condensed from Mcllvaine's
One Thousand American Fungi:
—
To Cleanse Mushrooms. As they are found, cut loose
well above attachment. Keep spore surface doivn until
top is brushed clean and every particle of dirt removed
from stem. If stem is hard, tough, or wormy, remove it.
Do all possible cleaning in the field.
When ready to cook, wash by throwing into deep pan of
water. Pass fingers quietly through them upward; let
stand a moment for dirt to settle; then gather them from
the water with fingers as a drain. Remove any adhering
dirt with rough cloth. Thus wash in two or three waters.
Lay to drain.
The largest amount of flavor is in the skin, the removal
of which is seldom justifiable.
Concise Rule. —
Cook in any way you can cook an oyster.
Broiling. —
Use well-spread caps only. Place caps oa
double broiler* gilU down. Broil two minutes. Ture,
and broil two minutes more. While hot, season with salt
and pepper, butter well, especially on gill side. Serve on
toastt.
Frying. — Heat
butter boiling hot in frying-pan. Fry
five minutes. Serve on hot dish, pouring over them the
sauce made by thickening the butter with a little flour.
Hunter's Toast. —
Carry a vial of olive oil, or a small
can of butter, and some pepper and salt mixed. Make fire
of dry twigs. Split a green stick (sassafras, birch, oi
spicewood, is best) at one end; put mushroom in the cleft,
broil, oil or butter, and eat from stick.
CampBake. —
Cover bottom of tin plate with the caps,
spore surface up. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place
a bit of butter on each- Put another tin plate on top. Set
on coals, or on a heated stone, fifteen minutes. No better
baking will result in the best oven.
All mushrooms on the following list are de-

licious :
Coprinus comatus. Lactarius 'volemus.

Hypholoma appendiculatum. " deliciosus.
Tricholoma personatum. Russula alutacea.
Boletus subaureus. " 'virescens.
" bovinus. Cantharellus cibarius.
" subsanguineous. Marasmius oreades.
Clavaria botrytes. Hydnum repandum.
" " Caput-Medusa.
cinerea
"
'vermicularis. Morchella esculenta.
" "
inaqualis. deliciosa.
"
pistillaris.
Canned Tomatoes. —
To a pint of tomatoes add
butter twice the size of an egg, some pepper, very
little salt, and a tablespoonful of sugar. Boil
about five minutes. Put some bread crumbs or
toast in a dish, and pour tomatoes over them. But-
ter can be omitted. Some do not like sugar in
tomatoes.
Canned Corn. — Same as tomatoes ; but omit
sugar and bread. Add a cup of milk, if you have
it.
Miscellaneous Vegetables. —
Since campers very
seldom have any other fresh vegetables than po-
tatoes and onions, I will not take up space with
special recipes for others. The following time^
table mav some time be useful:
VEGETABLES 373
Boiling of Vegetables.
Asparagus 20 to 25 minutes
Cabbage 20 to 25 minutes
Carrots 30 to 40 minutes
Cauliflower , 20 to 25 minutes
Corn (green) 15 to 20 minutes
Beans (string) 25 to 30 minutes
Beans (Lima) 30 to 35 minutes
Beans (navy, dried) 2^ to 4 hours
Beets 30 to 40 minutes
Onions 30 to 40 minutes
Parsnips 30 to 35 minutes
Peas (green) 20 minutes
Potatoes (new) 20 minutes
Potatoes (old) 30 to 40 minutes
Spinach 20 to 25 minutes
Turnips 30 to 35 minutes
Soups. — When Napoleon said that "soup makes

the soldier," he meant thick, soup
substantial —
soup that sticks to the ribs —
not mere broths or
meat extracts, which are fit only for invalids or to
coax an indifferent stomach. " Soup," says " Ness-
muk," " requires time,
and a solid basis of the right
material. Venison is the basis, and the best ma-
terial is the bloody part of the deer, where the
bullet went through. We
used to throw this
away; \vt have learned better. Cut about four
pounds of the bloody meat into convenient pieces,
and wipe them as clean as possible with leaves or a
damp cloth, but don't wash them. Put the meat
into a five-quart kettle nearly filled with water,
and raise it to a lively boiling pitch."
Here I must interfere. It is far better to bring
the water gradually to a boil and then at once hang
the kettle high over the fire where it will only keep
up a moderate bubbling. There let it simmer at
least two hours —
better half a day. It is impossi-
ble to hasten the process. Furious boiling would
ruin both the soup and the meat.
" Nessmuk " continues: "Have ready a three-
tined fork made from a branch of birch or beech,
and with this test the meat from time to time;
v/h/f.n it parts readily from the bones, slice in a
large onion. Pare six large, smooth potatoes, cut
five of them into quarters, and drop them into the
kettle; scrape the sixth one into the soup for thick-
ening. Season with salt and white pepper to taste.
When, by skirmishing with the wooden fork, you
can fish up bones with no meat on them, the soup
is cooked, and the kettle may be set aside to cool."
Any kind of game may be used in a similar way,

provided that none but lean meat be used. Soup
is improved by first soaking the chopped-up meat
in cold water, and using this water to boil in there-

after. Soup should be skimmed for some time
after it has started simmering, to remove grease
and scum.
To anyone who knows petite marmite or poule-
au-pot, these simple directions will seem barbarous
— and so they are but barbarism has its compen-
;
sations. Areally first-class soup cannot be made

without a full day's previous preparation and the
resources ofa city grocery. Mulligatawny, for
example, requires thirty-two varieties of spices and
other condiments. No start can be made with any
"
standard soup until one has a supply of " stock
made of veal or beef, mutton or poultry, by long
simmering and skimming and straining.
In camp, stock can be made expeditiously by
cutting one or two pounds of venison into thin
slices, then into dice, cover with cold water, boil
gently twenty minutes, take from the fire, skim,
and strain. A tolerable substitute is Liebig's beef
extract, or beef cubes, dissolved in water.
Onion, cloves, mace, celery seed, salt, and red
or white pepper, are used for seasoning. Sassafras
leaves, dried before the fire and powdered, make
the gumbo file of the Creoles. Recipes for a few
simple, nourishing soups, are given below:
Venison Soup. —
" Put 4 or 5 lbs. of deer ribs
in a bucket of water. Cook slowly until only half
a bucket of stock remains.
'
' Add i can tomatoes,
54 cup rice, and salt to taste. Cook until these are
done." (Dr. O. M. Clay.)
VEGETABLES 375
(2) Take 4 lbs. of lower leg bones of deer, or

moose, caribou, sheep, goat, elk, etc., 2 lbs. of the
meat, a large handful each of julienne and rice,
a few pieces of pork, i teaspoonful of salt, pepper
to taste, and 4 quarts of water. Crack the soup
bones so that the marrow will run out, place in a
large pot with the meat, water, and julienne, and
boil slowly until the meat is shredded. Take out
bones, add the rest of the ingredients, add hot
water to make the desired quantity of soup, and
boil until rice is cooked. (Abercrombie.)
Squirrel Soup. — Put the squirrels (not less than
three) in a gallon of cold water, with a scant table-
spoonful of salt. Cover the pot closely, bring to
the bubbling point, and then simmer gently until
the meat begins to be tender. Then add whatever
vegetables you have. When the meat has boiled
to a rag, remove the bones. Thicken the soup with
a piece of butter rubbed to a smooth paste in flour.
Season to taste.
Croutons for Soup. — Slice some stale bread half
an inch thick, remove crust, and cut bread into
half-inch dice. Fry these, a few at a time, in deep
fat of the " blue smoke " temperature, until they
are golden brown. Drain free from grease, and
add to each plate of soup when serving. (See also
page 356.)
Tomato Soup. —Take a quart can of tomatoes
and a sliced onion. Stew twenty minutes. Mean-
time boil a quart of milk. Rub to a paste two
tablespoonfuls each of flour and butter, and add
to the boiling milk, stirring until it thickens. Now
season the tomatoes with a teaspoonful of sugar, a
little salt, and pepper. Then stir into the toma-
toes one-half teaspoonful baking soda (to keep milk
from curdling) add the boiling milk, stir quickly,
,
and serve.
Bean Soup. — Boil with pork, as previously di-
rected, until the beans are tender enough
to crack
open then take out the pork and mash the beans
;
Into a Daste. Return Dork to kettle, add a cup of

flour mixed thin with cold water, stirring it in
slowly as the kettle simmers. Boil slowly an hour
longer, stirring frequently so that it may not scorch.
Season with little salt but plenty of pepper.
Pea Soup. — Wash well one pint of split peas,
cover with cold water, and let them soak over
night. In the morning put them in a kettle with
close-fitting cover. Pour over them three quarts
cold water, adding one-half pound lean bacon or
ham cut into dice, one teaspoonful salt, and some
pepper. When the soup begins to boil, skim the
froth from the surface. Cook slowly three to four
hours, stirring occasionally till the peas are all dis-
solved, and adding a little more boiling water to
keep up the quantity as it boils away. Let it get
quite thick. Just before serving, drop in sijiall
squares of toasted bread or biscuits, adding quickly
while the bread is hot. Vegetables may be added
one-half hour before the soup is done.
Turtle Soup. —Clean the turtle as directed in
Chapter XV, leaving legs on, but skin them and
remove the toes, as well as outer covering of shell.
Place remaining parts, together with a little juli-
enne, in fresh, hot water and boil until all the meat
has left the bones. Remove bones, add hot water
for required quantity of soup. Salt and pepper to
taste. A tablespoonful each of sherry and brandy
to each quart of liquid improves the flavor.
Condensed Soups. —
Follow directions on wrap-
per.
Skilligalee. — The best thing in a fixed camp is
the stock-pot. A large covered pot or enameled

pail is reserved for this and nothing else. Into it
go all the clean fag-ends of game — heads, tails,
wings, feet, giblets, large bones — also the left- I
overs of fish, flesh, and fowl, of any and all sorts
of vegetables, rice, or other cereals, macaroni, stale
bread, everything edible except fat. This pot is
always kept hot. Its flavors are forever changing,
but ever welcome. It is always ^<".ady, day or
TTX5^TABLES 377
night, the hungry varlet who missed connec-
for
tions or who wants a bite between meals. No cook
who values his peace of mind will fail to have skilly
simmering at all hours.
CHAPTER XXII
BEVERAGES AND DESSERTS
Coffee. — To have coffee in perfection the berry
must be and freshly ground. This
freshly roasted
can be done with frying-pan and pistol-butt; yet
few but old-timers take the trouble.
There are two ways of making good coffee in
an ordinary pot. ( i ) Put coffee in pot with cold
water (one heaped tablespoonful freshly ground
to one pint, or more coffee if canned ground) and
hang over fire. Watch it, and when water first
begins to bubble, remove pot from fire and let it
stand five minutes. Settle grounds with a table-
spoonful of cold water poured down spout. Do
not let the coffee boil. Boiling extracts the tannin,
and drives off the volatile aroma which is the most
precious gift of superior berries. (2) Bring water

to hard boil,remove from fire, and quickly put
coffee in. Cover tightly and let steep ten minutes.
A better way, when you have a seamless vessel that
will stand dry heat, is to put coffee in, place over
gentle fire to roast until aroma begins to rise, pour
boiling water over the coffee, cover tightly, and set
aside.
Tea is best made
a covered enameled pail.
in
Leave the the water boils hard, then
lid off until
drop the tea in (one heaped teaspoonful to the
pint is a common rule, but it depends on the
strength of the brand you use), remove from the
fire at once, stir it to make tea settle, cover tightly,
and steep aiuay from fire four minutes by the watch.
Then strain into a separate vessel. A
better way
is to use a tea-ball, or put the tea in a small square
^78
BEVERAGES AND DESSERTS 379
of cheesecloth, tie it bag form, and leave
up in loose
some string attached remove it with.
to
A good deal of the aroma escapes from a teapot,
but little from a covered pail.
If tea is left steeping more than five or six min-
utes the result a liquor that would tan skin into
is
leather. To boil is —
well, it is like watering a
rare vintage. You know what
tlie old Colonel
said: " My friend,you put water in that wine,
if
God'U never forgive you I"

Chocolate. —
For each quart of boiling water
scrape up four tablespoonfuls of chocolate. Boil
until dissolved. Then add half a pint milk. Stir
with a peeled stick until milk has boiled up once.
Let each man sweeten his own cup.
Cocoa. —
Follow directions on can.
Desserts. —
Dried Fruit. —
Evaporated or dried
apples, apricots, peaches, prunes, etc., are misprized,
under-rated, by most people from not knowing how
to prepare them. The common way is to put the
fruit on to stew without previous soaking, and then
boil from one-half hour to two hours until it is
more or less pulpy. It is then flat and insipid, be-
sides unattractive to the eye.
There is a much better way. Soak the fruit at
least over night, in clear cold water just enough —
to cover —
with or without spices, as you prefer.
If time permits, soak it from twenty-four to thirty-
six hours. This restores the fruit to its original
size and flavor. It is good to eat, then, without
cooking. To stew, merely simmer gently a few
minutes in the water in which the fruit wâs soaked.
This water carries much of the fruit's flavor, and
is invaluable for sauce.
j
California prunes prepared in this way need no

sugar. Dried apples and peaches have none of the
rank taste by which they are unfavorably known,
but resemble the canned fruit. Apricots properly
soaked are especially good.
Jellyfrom Dried Fruit. — I was present when a
Southern mountain woman did some **experi-
encinV' with nothing to guide her but her own
wits. The result was a discovery of prime value
to us campers. Here are the details any one can —
follow them:
Wash one pound of evaporated apples (or com-
mon sun-dried apples of the country) in two wa-
ters. Cover with boiling water, and put them on
to stew. Add boiling water as required to keep
them covered. Cook until fruit is soft (about half
an hour). Strain off all the juice (cheesecloth is
convenient), and measure it. There will be, prob-
ably, a quart. Put this juice on the fire and add
half its own measure of granulated sugar (say a
scant pound — but measure it, to make sure of the
proportion).
Now boil this briskly in a broad, uncovered ves-
sel, without stirring or skimming, until the juice
gets syrupy. The time varies according to quality
of fruit — generally about twenty minutes after
coming to a full boil. When the thickened juice
begins to " flop," test it by letting a few drops drip
from a spoon. When the drops thicken and ad-
here to the spoon, the syrup is done. There will
be a little more than a pint. Pour it out. As soon
^s it cools it will be jelly, as good as if made from
fresh fruit and much better than what is commonly
sold in the stores.
Theapples remaining can be spiced and used as
sauce, or made into pies or turnovers, or into apple
butter by beating smooth, adding a teacupful of
sugar, spicing, and cooking again for fifteen or
twenty minutes.
If preferred, a second run of jelly can be made
from the same apples. Cover again with boiling
water, stew about fifteen minutes, add sugar by
measure, as before. This will take less boiling
than the first juice (about seven minutes).
Enough jelly will result to make nearly or quite a
quart, all told, from one pound of dried apples and
about one and one-half pounds of sugar.
-Xoricots or anv other tart dried fruit can be used
instead of apples. Sweet fruit will not do, unles*

lemon juice or real apple vinegar is added.
Wild Fruits. — The time of ripening of Aineri-

-can wild fruits is given in Volume II, und<f the
heading Edible Plants of the WiLDERNEb:^.
Pie. — It is not to be presumed that a mere male
camper can make a good pie-crust in the regulai
way; but it is easy to make a wholesome £<nd very
-fair pie-crust in an irregular v/ay, which is a?
follows: Make a glorified biscuit dough by mix-
ing thoroughly i pint flour, i teaspoonfal baking
powder, 3^ teaspoonful salt, rubbing in 4 heaped
tablespoonfuls of lard (better still, half-and-half
of butter and lard), and making into a soft dough
with cold water. In doing this, observe the rules
given under Biscuit. The above quantity is enough
for a pie filling an 8x 12 reflector pan. Roll the
dough into a thin sheet, as thin as you can handle,
and do the rolling as gently as you can.
From this sheet cut a piece large enough for
bottom crust and lay it in the greased pan. The
sheet should be big enough to lap over edge of pan.
Into this put your fruit (dried fruit is previously
stewed and mashed), and add sugar and spice tO'
taste. Then, with great circumspection and be-
coming reverence, lay on top of all this your upper
crust. Now, with your thumb, press the edges of
upper and lower crust together all around, your
thumb-prints leaving scallops around the edge.
Trim off by running a knife around edge of pan.
Then prick a number of small slits in the top
crust, here and there, to give a vent to the steam
when the fruit boils. Bake as you would biscuits.
Note that this dough contains baking powder,
and that it will swell. Don't give the thing a
name until it is baked; then, if you have made the
crust too thick for a pie, call it a cobbler, or a
shortcake, and the boys, instead of laughing at you,
will ask for more.
Suits und —
Knepp. This is a Pennsylvania-
Dutch dish, and a good one for campers. Takf
some dried apples and soak them over night. Boil
until tender. Prepare knepp as directed for pot*
pie dough, only make a thick batter of it instead
of a dough. It is best toadd an egg and use no
shortening. Drop the batter into the pan of stew-
ing apples, a large spoonful at a time, not fast
enough to check the boiling. Boil about 3^ hour.
Season with butter, sugar, and cinnamon.
Apple Dumpling, —
Make a biscuit dough (see
page 347) and roll out to 34 iîch thick. Peel and
quarter some apples and remove the cores. Put
four quarters together and cover it with a globe of
dough. Put in a cloth and boil like pudding,
(page 384) for 25 minutes.
To bake dumplings: roll the dough quite thin,
cover as above, and bake.
Fruit Cobbler. —
Make up your dough as di-
rected under Pie, excepting omit baking powder,
and use 3^ pound of mixed butter and lard to 2
pints flour. Mix with coldest spring water, and
have your hands cold. After putting under crust
in greased pan, pour in scant 3 pints of fruit, which
may be either fresh, canned, or evaporated (soaked
as explained under Dried Fruits) leaving out the
y
free juice. Cover with upper crust, bake brown,

and serve with milk or pudding sauce.
Doughnuts. —
Mix I quart of flour with I tea-
spoonful of I tablespoonful of baking powder,
salt,
and I pint of granulated sugar, and Yz nutmeg
grated. Make a batter of this with 4 beaten eggs
and enough milk to make smooth. Beat thoroughly
and add enough flour to make a soft dough. Roll
out into a sheet 3^ inch thick and cut into rings or
strips,which may be twisted into shape. Fry by
completely immersing in very hot fat; turn when
necessary. Drain and serve hot.
Gingerbread. —
Mix I cup molasses, I table-
spoonful ground ginger, 3^ teaspoonful salt, 3^ cup
melted butter or drippings, i cup milk, 3 cups flour
with 2 teaspoonfuls baking powder mixed in it.
Bake y2 houi-
Cookies. — Mix
4 cups flour with 3 teaspoons
baking powder and i cup sugar; pour into this 4
tablespoons melted butter or drippings; add i cup
raisins and i teaspoon cinnamon and cloves or all-
spice. Mix with enough water to make of the con-
sistency of biscuit dough. Roll out to about 3^
inch thick (or thinner if raisins are omitted). Cut
with top of baking powder can, and bake to a light
brown.
. Puddings are either baked In an oven or reflector,
or boiled in a cloth bag. Baked puddings are
quickest and easiest to manage. A few examples
of simple puddings are given below. They may be
varied Indefinitely, according to materials available.
Deep tin pudding pans are convenient to bake in.
Snow may be substituted for eggs (see page 353).
Rice Pudding. —
Mix i pint cold boiled rice with
I quart milk and sugar to taste. Put in a well-
greased pan, dust nutmeg or cinnamon over the
top, and bake slowly one hour. Seeded raisins are
an agreeable addition. Mix them in before baking.
To stone them, keep them in lukewarm water dur-
ing the process. A
couple of eggs make the pud-
ding richer.
Fruit Pudding. —
Line a deep dish or pan, well
greased, with slices of buttered bread. Then put
in a layer of fruit, dusting it with sugar and dot-
ting with small lumps of butter. Repeat these
•alternate lajêrs until the dishfull, the last layer
Is
being bread. Bake 3^ ^

hour, with moderate
to
heat. Eat hot, with the sweet sauce given below.
Cottage Pudding. —
1pint flour,
1/2pint sugar,
y2 pint milk,
2 heaped tablespoonfuls butter,
2 teaspoonfuls baking powder,

Grated rind of a lemon,
Mix thoroughly the flour and baking powder.

Hub the butter and sugar to a cream, add the milk
j84 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
and egg beaten then the lemon rind.
together;
Add and mix well. Butter a pan
this to the flour
well to prevent scorching and dredge it with flour
or powdered bread-crumbs. Pour in the batter,
and bake about half an hour in hot oven.
A richer pudding is made by using one-hali
pound butter and two eggs.
A cupful of stoned raisins, minced figs, or dates,
added to the batter, converts this into a good fruit
pudding. Nutmeg, cinnamon, or other flavoring
may be substituted for lemon.
Batter Pudding. —
yi pint flour,
I pint milk,
I heaped tablespoonful butter,
6 e^gs.
Beat flour and milk into a smooth batter. Then

add the eggs, beaten light. Stir all well together,
adding the butter in tiny lumps. Dip a clean cloth
bag into hot water, dredge it with flour, pour the
batter into this, tie up firmly, and put into plenty
of boiling water. Keep this boiling steadily for an
hour. Then dip the bag quickly in cold water and
remove cloth with care not to break the pudding.
Serve very hot, with a sauce.
Plain Plum Duff.—
I quart flour,
1 heaped teaspoonful baking powder,
2 tablespoonfuls sugar,
1 lb. seeded raisins.
^ lb. suet (or see below).
Venison suet chopped fine, or the fat of salt pork

minced up, will serve. Marrow is better than
either. Mix
the dry ingredients intimately. Then
make up with half a pint of water. Put this into
a cloth bag prepared as in the preceding recipe.
Since suet puddings swell considerably, the bag
must be large enough to allow for this. Place in
tnough boiling water and do not
to cover, let it
check boiling until done (about two hours). Add

BEVERAGES AND DESSERTS 3^3
boiling water as required to keep the bag covered.

Turn the bag upside down when pudding begins to
set, or the fruit will all go to the bottom; turn it
around now and then to prevent scorching against
sides of pot. When done, manipulate it like cot-
tage pudding. Serve with jiweet sauce.
A richer duff can be made by spicing and adding
molasses, or the rind and juice of a lemon.
Sweet Sauce for Puddings. — Melt a little but-
ter, sweeten it to taste, and flavor with grated
lemon rind, nutmeg, or cinnamon.
Brandy Sauce. —
Butter twice the size of an egg
is to be beaten to a cream with a pint of sugar and
a tablespoonful of flour. Add a Rill of brandy.
Set the cup in a dish of boiling water and beat until
the sauce froths.
Fruit Sauce. —
Boil almost any fresh fruit until
it is quite Squeeze it through cheesecloth,
soft.
sweeten to taste, heat it, and pour the sauce over
your pudding. Spices may be added during the
final heating.
—
Hard Sauce. Work 2 tablespoonfuls of buttei
with a small cupful of sugar to a cream. Flavo:
with a little nutmeg, lemon juice, brandy, ni what
«vtr may be your preference.
CHAPTER XXIII
COOK'S MISCELLANY
Dish Washing. — Gilbert
Hamerton, in his
Painter's Camp, dwells lovingly upon all the little
details of camp life, excepting this:
5 p. M. Cease painting for the day. Dine. . After . .
dinner the woeful drudgery of cleaning-up At this period

!
of the day am seized with a vague desire to espouse a scul-

lery-maid, it being impossible to accommodate one in the
hut without scandal, unless in the holy state of matrimony;
hope no scullery-maid will pass the h'it when I am engaged
in washing-up, as I should be sure to make her an offer.
There is a desperately hard and disagreeable viây

of washing dishes, which consists, primarily, in
" going for '*
same rag,
everything/ alike with the
and wiping grease off one dish only to smear it on
the next one. There is another, an easier, and a
cleaner way: Fir^t, as to the frying-pan, which
generally is greasiest of all: pour it nearly full of
water, place it level over the coals, and let it boil
over. Then pick it up, give a quick flirt to empty
it, and hang it up. Virtually it has cleaned itself,
and will dry itself if let alone. Greasy dishes are
scraped as clean as may be, washed with scalding
water, and then wiped. An obdurate pot is cleaned
by first boiling in it (if you have no soap powder)
some wood ashes, the lye of which makes a sort of
soap of the grease; or it may be scoured out with
sand and hot water. Greasy dishes can even be
cleaned without hot water, if first wiped with a
handful or two of moss, which takes up the grease;
use first the dirt side of the moss as a scourer, then
the top. To scour greasy knives and forks, simply
COOK'S MISCELLANY 387
j'ab them once or twice into the ground. Rusty
ones can be burnished by rubbing with a freshly cut
potato dipped in wood ashes. The scouring rush
{Equisetum hymenale), which grows in wet places
and along banks throughout the northern hemi-
sphere, has a gritty surface that makes an excellent
swab. It is the tall, green, jointed, pipe-stem-like
weed that children amuse themselves with, by pull-
ing the joints apart. The sooty outside of a pot
is readily cleaned with a bit of sod ("monkey
soap ").
In brief, the art of dish washing consists first in
cleaning oft nearly all the grease before using your
dish-cloth on it. Then the cloth will be fit to use
again. Dish-cloths are the supplies that first run
short in an average outfit.
COOK'S MEASURES
45 drops water=i teaspoonful^n fluid dram.
2 teaspoonfuls=i dessertspoonful.
4 teaspoonfuls=i tablespoonful.
2 tablespoonfuls=i fluidounce.
4 tablespoonfuls=i wineglassful.
8 tablespoonfuls=i gill.
2 gillsî cup.
4 gills=i pint (i Tb. water).
2 pints=i quart (i lb. flour).
4 quarts=i gallon.
2 gallons (dry)=i peck.
4 pecks (dry)=i bushel.
OUTFITTER'S DATA
Baking powder i Ib.=i^ pints.
Beans, dried i qt.= i^ lbs.
Coffee, roasted whole i qt.= io oz.
Corn meal i qt.=i^4 lbs.
Flour I qt.= i tb.
Macaroni i Tb.=8^^x2Hx2f^ in.
Oatmeal i qt.=^ lb.
Peas, split i qt.=i^ lbs.
Rice I qt.=2 lbs.
Salt, dry i qt.= ij^ lbs.
Soda crackers are about 3 times as bulky as bread, weight
for weight.
Sugar, granulated .i qt.=i^ lbs.
Vâ I qt.= ^ lb.
Bacon, breakfast i flitch=5-8 tbs., average.
Salt pork x side=30-4o lbs., average.
Salt pork i belly=2o tbs., average.
Butter, closely packed i Ib.=i pint.
Butter, creamery i Ib.=45^x2^x2^ in.
Eggs, desiccated i Ib.^6x3X3 in. ==4 doz. fresh.
Eggs, fresh i doz. (average)=i^ lbs.
Lard 3 lb. pail = 5x5 in.
Lard 5 lb. pail=6x6 in.
Milk, evaporated 7 oz. can=2>4x2j/2 in.
Milk, evaporated i2 oz. can=3^x3 in.
Milk, evaporated i lb. can=45^x3 in.
Apples, evaporated i lb. (14 oz.)=7>^x4^x2 in,

Apples, evaporated i peck=6 tbs
Corn, canned 1 can=2^1bs.=r45/^x3|^ in.

Fruit, canned, small can, same as corn.
Fruit, canned, large can, same as tomatoes.
Tomatoes, canned i can=2j^ tbs.=4%x4j/^ in.
Lemons i doz.=2 tbs. =2 qts.
Raisins, stemmed i tb.î]/3 pints.
Carrots i qt.=i34 tbs.
Onions i qt.= i tb.
Potatoes I peck=i5 lbs.
Sweet potatoes 1 peck=i4 lbs.
A TABLE
FOR READY REFERENCE IN CHOOSING WHAT TO
COOK
All recipes in this book are here grouped under
Quick J Medium, or Slow, according to the time
they take. Everything under Quick can be pre-
pared in less than 25 minutes, and so is specially
suitable for breakfast or luncheon.
The table also at a glance what recipes
shows
call for milk, or eggs, and what do not.
butter,
The following abbreviations are used:
E == Eggs required (whole or desiccated).

B =Butter required.
M= Milk required (maybe evaporated or powdered).
£*= Eggs desirable, but may be omitted.
B*= Butter desirable, but other fat may be substituted.
M*= Milk desirable, but water may be substituted.
* —Made over from previously cooked material.
Quick
{Under 25 minutes)
Fresh Meat, Game.
Broiled meat, game. B* 292
Fried meat, game 291
Chops 292
Kabobs 296
Brains, fried 306
Brains and eggs. E 306
Liver, fried 306
Kidneys, fried 306
Milt, broiled 307
Venison sausages 307
HCroquettes. jB, E 307
Small birds, roasted. £.* 319
UDeviled birds. B 319
Frog legs, broiled or fried. B* 328
Fish.
Fish, fried 321
Fish, broiled. B* 322
Fish, skewered 322
Shellfish.
Oysters, stewed. B, M 329
Oysters, fried. E 329
Oysters, scalloped. B 330
Oysters, saute. B. 330
Cured Meat.
Bacon, broiled, fried, toasted , 332
Salt pork, broiled or fried 333
Ham, broiled or fried 333
Bacon, or ham, and eggs. E 332
Pork fritters 333
Pork sausages 334
Slumgullion 335
Dried beef, creamed. M, B.* 335
Canned meat, heated , 336
Cured or Canned Fish.
Smoked herring, toasted 337
Smoked herring, fried. B.* 337
Sprats 337
Salmon, creamed. M 337
Salmon, scalloped. B, M 337
Salmon on toast. B, E, M 337
Sardines, fried. B* E.* 338
Gravies.
Braising gravy o 297
Frying gravy . ôu
Broiling gravy. B.* 295
Boiling gravy. B =
303
Roasting gravy 303
Beef extract gravy 303
Cream gravy. B, M 303
Rabbit gravy , 310
Bacon gravy, thin 332
Pork gravy, thick. At.* 333
Roux 302
Onion gravy 3 03
Eggs.
Eggs, poached (fresh). B* E 3ij.c
Eggs, boiled (fresh). E 3:j.o
Eggs, fried (fresh). E 33S

Eggs, scrambled (fresh or desiccated). B* E 339
Omelets (fresh or desiccated). B*E 339
Eggs, stirred. B, E ,
3 40
Bread.
Biscuit loaf 346
Biscuits 347
Dropped biscuits 348
Breakfast rolls. B, E,M 348
Bannocks 344
Dough gods 351
Unleavened bread ... 351
French toast. E 356
Milk toast. B, M. 356
IRice muffins. E, M 362
Pancakes, etc.
Flapjacks, plain 355
Egg pancakes. E 355
Snow pancakes 355
UMixed cakes 3 5S
Corn batter cakes. E* M* 356
Buckwheat cakes. E* M.* • •
356
Syrup 356
"Gritted" bread 3 54
Fried quoits 357
Fritters. B* E, M.* 3 57
Dumplings. M.* 3 5^
Porridge, etc.
UFrled mush 360
tFried grits, rice 3^2
IfRice with onions 3^2
Rolled oats 3<>i
Breakfast cereals » 3^2
Vegetables.
Potatoes, fried - 3^5
Potatoes, stewed. B, M 36$
UPotato cakes. E* M* 365
UPotatoes, mashed. B* M 365
IfPotatoes, lyonnaise 366
^Potatoes, creamed 366
tSweet potatoes, fried 367
Potatoes and onions, hashed 367
Green corn, roasted. B.* 369
Greens, boiled (some kinds). B.* 369
Mushrooms. B 371
Canned tomatoes, stewed. B* 372
Canned corn, stewed. B,* M* 372
Soups.
Condensed soups 376
Tomato soup. B, M 375
Beverages,
Coffee 378
Tea 378
Chocolate, il/ 379
Cocoa. M 379
Sauces.
Barbecue sauce. B.* 296
Mustard sauce. B 304
Venison sauce. B 304
Broiled venison sauce. B 304
Giblet sauce. B* M.* 316
Celery sauce. B, M. 320
Cranberry sauce 320
Curry sauce. B, M.* 320
Butter sauce. B 325
White sauce. B, M 325
Lemon sauce. B, M 325
Parsley sauce. B.* 304
India sauce B, M 325
Sweet sauce. B 385
Brandy sauce. B 385
Fruit sauce 3^5
Hard sauce. B 3^5
Salad dressing 37°
Medium.
(^5 io 4S minutes.)
Fresh Meat, Game.
Cured venison, steamed 336
Small mammals, roasted 294
Heart, braised 306
Liver, roasted 306
Oarae pot pie. B.* , . 307
Curry of game. B* 30S
Game pie 308
Small game, barbecued 309
Small game, fricasseed 315
Duck, roasted or baked 317
Grouse, roasted 319
Game birds, boiled 320
Fish.
Fish, baked 323
Fish, boiled. B 324
Fish, roasted. B* 323
Fish, planked. B* 323
Fish, steamed • •
324
Fish chowder. B* M.* 326
Fish cakes. E 327
Fish roe 328
Eel, stewed. M 328
Frog legs, creamed. B, M 328
Shellfish, etc.
Clams, baked. B. 330
Clam chowder. M 330
Crayfish, boiled 329
Crabs, deviled 331
Cured Meats.
Bacon and liver 306
Pork and hardtack 333
Corned beef hash 335
Canned meat stew 335
Cured Fish.
Salt fish, broiled 336
Codfish balls. £.* 337
Bread.
Army bread 34^
Corn pone 35^
Johnny-cake 35^
Corn dodgers 35^
Ash cake 35^
Corn bread. B, E, M 353
Corn batter bread. E, M 353
Snow bread 353
Cereals, etc.
Rice, boiled 361
Rice, curried 3^^
Risotto 36a
Grits, boiled 362
Macaroni^ boiled ZSC
COCK'S x\nSCELLANY 393
Vegetables.
Desiccated vegetables 363
Potatoes, boiled 364
Potatoes, steamed 365
Potatoes, baked 365
iTPotatoes au gratin. B, M 366
Sweet potatoes, boiled 366
Green corn, boiled 369
Kedgeree 369
Greens, boiled (some kinds). B* 369
Desserts..
Pie. B.* 381
Doughnuts. E, M 382
Snits und Knepp. B, E.* 381
Apple dumplings 382
Fruit cobbler. B 382
Gingerbread. B* M 382
Cookies. B.* 383
Cottage pudding. B, E, M 383
Sauces.
Tomato sauce. B 350
Slow.
{Over 45 minutes.)
Fresh Meat, Game.
Roasted meat, big game 294
Braised meat, big game. . . • • 296
Baked meat, big game 297
Boiled meat, big game 299
Stewed meat, big game 300
Steamed meat, big game 301
Barbecued meat, big game 296
Kidneys, stewed 306
Marrow bones, boiled 307
Moose muffle, boiled • 307
Tongue, boiled 307
Turkey, goose, roasted 315
Turkey, boiled 316
lambolaya 308
Turtle, boiled = 329
Cured Meat.
Lobscouse 335
Bacon, salt pork, ham, boiled 332
Ham and macaroni 360
Ham chow 334
Cured Fish.
Salt fish, boiled 336
Codfish, stewed , 336
Codfish hash 3j7
Bread.
Sour-dough bread 349
Salt-rising bread 349
Lungwort bread 350
Porridge, etc.
Corn mush 360
Polenta 361
Macaroni, with cheese, li
359
Macaroni, baked. B, M 359
Spaghetti, baked 3 59
Rice, Spanish 362
Vegetables.
Beans, boiled •
367
Beans, baked 367
Onions, boiled. B* M* 369
Green corn, baked 369
Greens, boiled (some kinds) B.* .
369
Soups from raw materials, fi.* 373
Desserts.
Dried fruit, stewed 379
Jelly from dried fruit 379
Rice pudding. £ * M 383
Batter pudding. B, E, M 384
Plum duff 384
Snow pudding 38}
INDEX TO VOLUME I
Almanacs, 172 Bed 136

rolls,
Ants, 220, 256 Bed tick,
134
Apple dumpling, 382 Bedding, 124
Ash cake, 344, 352 Beef extract, 199
Axes, 113 Gravy from, 303
Care of, 114, 115, 224 Beef, Corned, 187, 334
Hash, 335
Bacon, 186 Beef, Dried, 187
and eggs, 332 Creamed, 335
Boiled, 332 Belts, 145
Broiled, 332 Benches, Rustic, 218
Fried, 332 Beverages, 197, 378
omelet, 332 Birds baked in clay, 299
Toasted, 332 with beans, 297
Baking bread, 342 Broiled, 315
in a hole, 297 Deviled, 319
ashes, 344, 353 Fricasseed, 315
clay, 298 Fried, 315
clay oven, 345 Hanging to ripen, 282,
Dutch oven, 342 314
embers, 298 Roasting, 317
frying pan, 344 Small, To cook, 319
kettle,343 To dress, 282
reflector, 347 dry, 279
the hide, 297 keep, 283
meat, 297 ship, 283
on a slab, 345 Biscuit, 347
Baking powder, 346 Dropped, 348
Bandages, Triangular, 174 loaf, 344, 346
Bannocks, 344 Bites and stings, 249, 257
Barbecuing, 296, 309 Bittern, Cooking, 319
Bark as fuel, 230, 233 Blanket, To roll up in, 128
Bean soup, 375 To wear, 128
Beans, 195 Blankets, 127
Baked, 367 Airing, 224
and dried, 368 Blow-flies, 250, 275, 276
with birds, 297 Boiling, 299, 324
Boiled, 367 at high altitudes, 300
Bear, Butchering, 274 Boots, 156
Cooking, 292, 296 Felt, 161
Beaver tail, Cooking, 314 Brains and eggs, 306
Bed-bugs, 256 Cooking, 306
?95
396 INDEX
Braising, 296 Caribou hide, 131, 148, 158
Bread, 191 Carryalls, 137
Army, 348 Catfish, To skin, 285
Baking, 342 Celluloid varnish, 73
Corn, 352, 353 Centipedes, 259
Fried, 357 Cereals, 185, 193
Gritted, 352 Cooking, 361
Lungwort, 350 Left-over, 362
Raising in pot, 350 Chairs, Camp, 55
Salt-rising, 349 Cheese. 191
Snow, 353 Chests, Camp, 206
Sour-dough, 349 Chocolate as a beverage,
Stale, To freshen, 347, 379
356 as food, 194
Unleavened, 351 Chopping-block, 223
Wheat, 346 Chops, Cooking, 294
Breakfast foods, 362 Chowder, Clam, 330
Breeches, 144 Fish, 326
Broiling, 292, 322 Chuck boxes, 207
Browse bag, 134 Citric acid, 197
Buckskin jackets, 147 Clam chowder, 330
moccasins, 158 Clams, Baked, 330
Buckwheat cakes, 356 Stewed, 301
Bunks, 53 Cloth, Dyeing, 74
Butchering game, 264 Waterproofing, 72, 14^
Butter, 191 Clothes hangers, 58
Care of, 220 line, 224
Keeping, 191 Clothing, 138
Colors, 143, 147, 162
Cakes, Mixed, 355 for cold weather, 162
Calories, i8i, 202 women, 163
Cameras, 176 Coals, To keep alive, 229
Camp conveniences, 223 Coats, 146
cookery, 290 Mackinaw, 162
Exposure of, 216 Cocoa, 199, 379
furniture, 53, 2i8 Codfish balls, 337
making, 208 hash, 337
pests, 24X Stewed, 336
Privacy 216
of, Coffee, 197
sanitation, 222 Brewing, 378
sites, 208, 212, 2i6 Cold storage, 67, 220, 287
Camp-fires, loi, 225, 230, Comfort in camp, 124
231 Comforters, 126, 12S
Camping, 20 Compass, 168
Preparations for, 207 Comrades and camp boreSj
System in, 217
Candlesticks, Improvised, Co idiments, 199
221 Cook's measures, 387
Caps, i6o miscellany, 387
Capsules, 197 time-tables, 317, 373, 388
Carbohydrates, 179 Cookers, Fireless, SG
INDEX 397
Cookery, Camp, 290 Dopes, Fly, 243^
Cookies, 383 Dough, To mix without
Cooking fires, 226 pan, 346
Cooking in the rain, 47 Dough-gods, 351
utensils, 64, 118 Doughnuts, 382
without utensils, 293, Drawers, 141
295-299, joi, 309, Dressing game and fish,
314, 315, 317, 319, 264
322-324, 330, 340. Driftwood, 239
344-346, 365, 369 Duck, Baked, 317
'Coons, 263, 281 in clay, 299
Cooking, 312 Fish-eating, 318
Corn batter bread, 353 Stewed, 318
batter cakes, 352, 356 To dress, 282, 316
bread, 352, 353 Duck, Cotton, 32
Canned, Cooking, 372 Duff, Plum, 384
dodgers, 352 Dumplings, 308, 358
Green, 369 Apple, 382
meal, 192 Dunnage bags, 164
mush, 360 Dutch ovens, 64
pone, 352^ Dyeing cloth, 74
Coots, Cooking, 318
Economies, 24
Cot mattresses, 53
Eel, Broiled, 327
Cots, 53
Cow-bell Stewed, 328
for children, 60
Crabs, Deviled, 331 To skin, 285
Eggs, 1 88
Crane, Cooking, 228
Boiled, 340
Crayfish, Cooking, 329
Desiccated, 1S9
Crisco, 197, 292,
Croquettes, 307
To cook, 338
Fried, 338
Croutons, 375
Crotches, 218
Frozen, 189
Crutch, To make, 219 Omelets, 339, 340
Curry of game, 308 Poached, 340
Roasted, 340
Scrambled, 339
Deer, Butchering, 264, 269
Carrying on litter, 266
Snow as substitute for,
pickaback, 267 354

Stirred, 340
Dragging on ground,
265
To pack, 189
preserve, 189
Hanging to butcher, 268,
test, 189
274
Electric flashers, 173
Packing on saddle, 265
Elk, Butchering, 273
Skinning, 270
skins. Preserving, 275
Exposure of camp, 216
Desserts, 379
Eye glasses, 173
Dining place, 218 Fats, 179

Dish washing, 386 Feet, Care of, 150
Ditty boxes, 165 Fence, 222
Dock, Cooking, 371 Field glasses, 177
Dog trolley, 59 Filters, 212
398 INDEX
Fire, Backlog, 231, 236 Flapjacks, 355
Building, 235 Flashlights, 173
Camp, 225 Fleas, 249
Cooking, 225 Flies, 222, 256
Dinner, 227 Blood-sucking, 250, 255
for baking, 229 Blow, 250, 275, 276
grates, 63 Flies, Tent, 35, 51
Hunter's, 230 Floss, Dental, n8
in trench, 230, 235 Flour, 192
wet weather, 234 Fly dopes, 243
Indian's, 232 Food, 178
irons, 64, 228 as a source of energy
Luncheon, 226 i8i
Precautions, 214, 234, Care of, 220, 259, 262,
237, 239 263, 275, 364
regulations, 234 Digestibility, 185
Starting in stove, 63 Nutritive values, 179,
Winter camp, 231 182, 368
Fires, Forest, 214, 234, 239 Packing, 205
Fireless cookers, 66 Variety, 180
First aid, 59 Weights and measures,
kits, 174
58, 387
Fish, Baked, 323 Footwear, 150
in clay, 298 Rubber, i6i
Boiled, 300, 324 Fricassees, 292
Broiled, 294, 322 Fritter batter, 358
cakes, 327 Fritters, 357
Canned, 188 Pork, 333
chowder, 326 Fritures, 197, 292, 321, 357
Cooking, 321 Frog legs. Cooking, 328
Creamed, 327, 337 Fruit, 196
Cured, 188 cobbler, 382
To cook, 336 Dried, Cooking, 379
Fried, 321 Jelly from, 379
from muddy waters, 284, Wild, 381
327 Frying, 291, 302, 321
Frozen, 305 Frying-pans, 120
Planked, 323 Fuel, 212
Roasted, 323 Best, 237
roe, Cooking, 328 Driftwood as, 239
Salt, Cooking, 336 Hardwoods as, 236
Skewered, 324 Softwoods as, 236, 238
To clean, 283 Furniture, Camp, <;3
dry, 288 Rustic, 218

keep, 286
kill, 28s
salt, 189 Gall-bladder, 272, 282
scale, 284 Game, Big, Cooking, 290
ship, 288 birds. See Birds
skin, 284 Cooking, 305
steas. 28s Currv of, 308
INDEX 399
Game. —
Continued. Hash, Codfish, 337
Dressing and keeping, Corned beef, 335
264 Potato and onion, 367
Hanging to ripen, 274, Hat-bands, 139, 160
282, 291, 314 Hatchets, 165
pie, 308 Hats, 159
pot pie, 307 Head nets, 160
Shipping small, 283 Headwear, 159
Small, Cooking, 308 Heart, Cooking, 306
Gingerbread, 348, 382 Herrings, Smoked, Cook>
Gloves, 160 ing, 337
Gnats, 255 Hitch, Magnus, 47
Goggles, 173 Hobnails, 154
Going light, 109 Hogs, 222
Goose, Roasted, 317 Horn, Huntsman's, 118
To dress, 282
Gravy, 297, 302, 303 Ice, 220, 287
Bacon, 332 Insect bites and stings, 249,
Cream, 303 2S7
for boiled meat, 303 Insecticides, 247
roast meat, 303 Insects in camp, 256
from beef extract, 303 Noxious, 241
Onion, 303
Pork, 333 Jackets, Leather, 147
Greens, ^^'ild, 369 Jackknives, 167
Grilling on a rock, 293 Jambolaya, 308
Grits, Boiled, 362 Jelly from dried fruit, 379
Fried, 362 Jerusalem artichokes, Cook-
Gritted bread, 3^4 ing, 371
Groundhog, Cooking, 313 Johnny-cake, 352
Ground sheets, 37, 107
Grouse, Baking with beans, Kabobs, 296
297 Khaki, canvas, 33
Broiled, 319 Kedgeree, 369
Roasted, 319 Kidneys, Cooking, 306
To dress, 282, 283 Kindling, 233
dry, 279 Kit bags, 165
Guy frames, 46 Knickerbockers, 145
Knives, Pocket, 167
Sheath, 166
Ham, 187
and eggs, 333 Lanolin, 149
macaroni, 334 Lanterns, 60, 117
Boiled, 333 Lard, 197
Broiled, 333 Larrigans, 157
chow, 334 Latrine, 223
Fried, 333 Leather, To waterproof,
Hardtack, 191, 333, 335 154
Hardwoods and softwoods, Left-overs, 307, 319, 355,
236 360, 362, 365, 366,
Hare. See Rabbit 376
400 INDEX
Leggings, 145 Munson shoe lasts, 151
Lemonade powder, 197 Mush, Boiled, 360
Lightning, 215 Fried, 360
Liver, Cooicing, 306 Mushrooms, Cooking, 371
Lobscouse, 335 Edible, 372
Muskrat, To cook, 313
Macaroni, 193 dress, 281
Baked, 359
Boiled, 359 Neckerchiefs, 143
with cheese, 359 " No-see-ums," 255
Mackinaws, 147, 162 Nut butter, 196
Mammals, Small, To dress, Nuts, 196
280
Mapping, 169 Oatmeal porridge, 361
Map cases, 171 Oil, Olive, 197
Maps, 170 Oiled cloth, 71, 73
Marrow-bones, 307 Oilskins, 160
Match, To light in wind, Care of, 161
234 Omelets. See Eggs
Matchboxes, 173 Onioni, 194
Matches, To waterproof, Boiled, 369
173 Opossum. See Tossum
Mattresses, 53, 134 Outfits, Individual, 112
Air, 135 Outfitter's data, 387
Measures, Cook's, 387 Outfitting, 23, 109
Meat, Canned, 187, 336 Oven, Clay, 345
Stewed, 335 Dutch, 64
Care of, 220, 275 To use, 296, 342
Cooking, 290 Reflecting, 121
Cured, To cook, 332 To use, 296, 323, 347
Curing, 276 Sheet steel, 122
Frozen, 305 Overalls, 160
"Jerked," 277 Overshirts, 142, 162
Salt, Boiled, 299 Oysters, Fried, 329
Medical kits, 58 Roasted, 330
Mending canvas, 40 Saute, 330
Mice, 263 Scalloped, 330
Midges, 255 Steamed, 301
Milk, Condensed, 190 Stewed, 329
Powdered, 190
To heat, 300 Pack, Indian, 267
Milt (spleen), To cook, Packing, 113, 205
307 Pacs, Shoe, 157
Moccasins, 157 Pancakes, Corn, 352, 356
Moose, Butchering, 273 Egg, 355
muffle. To cook, 307 Snow, 355
Mosquito bars, 39, 55, 74, Parboiling, 300, 305
106 Parsly butter, 304
dopes, 243 Pea soup, 376
Mosquitoes, 160, 241 Peas, 195
Mulligan (skillv), 376 Pegs, To drive in tree, 220
INDEX 401
Personal kits, 164 Protein, 179, 185, 202
Pests of the woods, 241 > Provisions. See Food
Photography, 176 '«vfcjomaine poisoning
poisoning, 188,
Pie, Fruit, 381 286
Game, 308 \Zi '^'^ûddlng, Batter, 384
Pot, 307
Pillows, 135
Pine
. ...V knots, .j^
^x,^.., 233 .Q.
^J'^N <^N
Cottage, 383
Fruit, 38J
Rice, 383
.
.^
Plasmon, 192 V) / sauce, 385, '<^»
Plaster, Adhesive, ii6^<J^
PI ' Suet, 384
';'^.?/v^k
P
Pliers, 115 <Cûnkies, 255 "'t'^ v5j>
Plover, Cooking, 319 ^?uttees, 145.^^^^. ^^/O
To dress, 283
Plum duft, 384 Quail, Cooking', 3i9^0>>. ^<
Poisoning, Ptomaine, 188, QuiltSj 126, 129
286 Quoits, Fried, 357
Poke shoots, Cooking, 370
Polenta, 361
Ponchos, 146, 160
Rabbit, Baked,
Fried, 310
3^ N^ 4f* t
*
Porcupine, 259 Roasted, 310

Cooking, 313 Stewed, 310
To dress, 313 To dress, 281, 310
?ork and hardtack, 333 Raccoon. See 'Coon.
fritters, 333 Ragouts, 300
Salt, 187 Rail, Cooking breast of,
Boiled, 333 319
Broiled, 333 Ration lists, 200
Fried, 333 Cruisers' and campers',
Porridge, 360 303
Tossum, Baked, 311 U. S. Army, 200
Roasted, 312 Rats, 263
To dress, 311 Reflectors, 121
Pot pie, Game, 307 Baking in, 347
Potatoes and onions hashed, Roasting in,
296, 323
367. Refrigerators, 67, 220, 2%i
au gratin, 3C6 Refuse, Disposal of, 222
Baked, 365 Repair kits, 116, 161, 176
Boiled, 364 Repairs, Quick, 116
cakes, 36<; Rice, 193
Creamed, 366 Boiled, 361
Fried, 365 Curried, 362
Lyonnaise, 366 Fried, 362
Mashed, 365 muffins, 362
Steamed, 365 Spanish, 362
Stewed, 366 with onions, 362
Sweet, Boiled, 366 Pasotto, 362
Fried, 367 Roasting, 294
Pots, 119 Roasting-ears, 369
Pouches, 165 Rolls, Breakfast, 348
Privacy of camp, 216 Roughing it, no, 124
Protective coloration, 162 Route sketching, 169
:^02 INDEX
Roux, 302 Shoe-pacs, 157
Rubber clothing, ifo Shoes, 151
footwear, i6i Breaking in, 152
Canvas, 159
Saccharin, 193 Care of, 152
Salad dressing, 370 Waterproofed, 153
Salads, Scalded, 370 Sink, Camp, 223
Wild, 370 Sirup, 194
Salmon, Creamed, 337 To make, 356
on toast, 337 Skilligalee, 376
Scalloped, 337 Skins, Preserving, 275
Salt, 199 Skunk-bite, 262
Sandals for wading, 157 Skunks, 260
Sanitation, 222 Sleeping bags, 126, 129
Sardines on toast, 338 131, 135
Sauce, 303 Slickers, 160
Brandy, 385 Slumgullion, 335
Butter, 325 Smudges, 256
Celery, 320 Sneakers, 159
Cranberry, 320 Snipe, Cooking, 319
Curry, 320 To dress, 283
Fruit, 385 Snits und Knepp, 381
Giblet, 316 Snow bread, 353
Hard, 385 glasses, 173
India, 325 pancakes, 355
Lemon, 325 Soap, 119, 141, 176
Mustard, 304, 326 Socks, 142
Pudding, 385 German, 146, 161
Tomato, 359 Soda, Substitutes for, 35J
Venison, 304 Sod-cloths, 37, 74
White, 325 Sorrel, Cooking, 371
Sausage, Pork, 334 Soup, 373
Venison, 307 Bean, 375
Saws, 59 Canned, 188
Scales, 115 Condensed (dry), 188
Scent glands, 305, 310, 312- Croutons for, 375
Pea, 376
Scorpions, 257 Squirrel, 375
Shade, 215 stock, 374
Shear lashings, 47 Tomato, 375
Shears, Tent, 47 Turtle, 376
Sheath knives, 166 Venison, 374
Shellfish, Cooking, 329 Spades, 59, 115
Steamed, 301 Spaghetti, 359
Shelter-cloths, 97 Spleen, Cooking, 307
Shelves, 58 Sprats, Cooking, 337
Shipping fish, 288 Spring box, 221
Game, 283 Springs, 210
Shirts, 142 Squirrel, Barbecued, 309
Mackinaw. 147. 162 Broiled, 309
Shoe 'laces. 135, 151 Fried, 30s
INDEX 403
Squirrel. —Continued. Tent.— Continued
soup, 375 on rocky or sandy ground,
Stewed, 309 50
To dress, 280 shears, 46, 99, 106
Stakes, To drive, 219 tripods, 83, 104
Stationery, 172 parrels, 93, 96
Steaming fish, 324 poles, 40, 45, 47, 78, 82,
meat and vegetables, 301 94
Stewing, 300 rental, 41
Stings, 249, 257 ropes, 34, 75
Storm set, 45 slides, 75
Storms, 51 stakes and pins. 40, 43,
Stove-pipe holes, 40 50, 75
spark arrester, 63 striking, 43
Stoves, Cook, 60 trenching, 49
Heating, 63, 79 ventilation, 38
Stove-shield, 63 windows, 38, 74
Stuffing for fish, 323 with side bars, 4.8
rabbit, 310 workmanship, 34, 74
turkey, 315 Tents, "A," 92
Sugar, 193 Alpine, 94, 96
Sweaters, 147 Baker, 98
Sweets, 193 Bell, 78
System in camping, 217 Tents, Camp-fire, 100
Canoe, 102
Table for choosing what to Colored, 35
cook, 388 Commissary, loi
Tables, Camp, 56 **Compac," 103
Rustic, 218 Conical, 78
Tarantulas, 258 To pitch, 79
Tarp bed-sheet, 134 "Explorer's," 106
Tea, 198 for fixed camps, 29
Steeping, 378 shifting camps, 68, 76
Teepees, 81 Frazer, 84
Tent, Action of wind on, George, 85
51 Hudson Bay, 95
canopies, 36 Insect-proof, 106
Care of, 40 Lean-to, 98
door, 39 Light, 68
weights, 39 Marquee, 84
flies, 35, 51 Miner's, 82
floors, cloth, 105, 107 Pyramidal, 81
wooden, 49 Ross, 96
furnishings, 221 Royce, 85
furniture, 53 Second-hand, 41
ground, 212 Separable shelter, 96
hangers, 58 Semi-pyramidal, 84
making, 88, 98 Shelter, 96
materials, heavy, 31 Sibley, 78
light, 69, 75 Snow, 105
mending, 49 Tarpf^ylia. gS
404 INDEX
Tents. — Continued. Venison, Cooking, 305
Tropical, 37 Cured, Cooking, 336
Wall, heavy, 29 Sauce for, 304
light, 76 sausages, 307
To pitch, 41 soup, 374
Waterproof, 34, 69 To cure, 276
Wedge, 92 hang for ripening, 274^
To pitch, 92 291
Whymper, 94 jerk, 277
Ticks, 247, 255 ship, 288
Time-tables, Cook's, 388 Vests, 148
for boiling vegetables,
373
roasting birds, 317 Waders, 157, i6i
Toast, French, 356 Wall pockets, 58, 137
Milk, 356 Warbles, 311
Toilet articles, 176 Wash-boilers, 206
Tomato soup, 375 Wash-stand, 222
Tomatoes, 195 Washing clothing, 141,
Cooking, 372
142
Tongue, Cooking, 307
dishes, 386
Tools, 59, 113
Trees and lightning, 215
Watches, 169
Neighborhood of, 214 Water, 209
Tropics, Pests of, 251 Alkaline, 210
Trousers, 144 To 211
clarify,
Trout, To clean, 283

cool, 212
purify, 211
Turkey, Boiled, 316
Roasted, 295, 315 Waterfowl, To dress, 282,
Stuffing for, 316 316
To dress, 282 Waterproof cloths for tents,
Turtle, Cooking, 329 34, 69
Soup, 376 tents, 34, 69
Waterproofing cloth, 72
154
leather,
Underclothing, 139 matches, 173
Union suits, 141 Woolens, 148
Waterproofs, 160
Vacations, 17 Weight game, Comput-
of
Vegetables boiled with ing,280
meat, 299 Weights and measures of
Canned, 195 food, 387
Cooking, 363 Whistles, 170
Cleaning, 363 Wild, Call of the, 17
Dehydrated, 195, 200 Wilderness, Charm of, 21
Cooking, 363
Wind, Action of, on tents,
Dried, Cooking, 363
51
Fresh, 194
Storing, 364
Wolverines, 262
Time-table for boiling, Women, Clothing for, 163
37.'?
Woodcock. Cooking, 319
INDEX 405
Woodchuck, Cooking, 313 Woodsman, Qualities of,
Woods as fuel, 236 24, no
Green, as fuel, 237 Wool vs. cotton, 127, 128,
hard to split, 237 140, 144
Hardwoods and soft- Woolens, To waterproof,
woods, 236 148
Spitfire, 237 Wounds, Treatment of, 175
Uninflammable, 236
CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Vol. II
WCX>DCRAF1
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK • CHICAGO
DALLAS . ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO
LONDON . MANILA
BRETl-MACMILLAN LTD.
TORONTO
1
CAMPl5<a^
AND ^^^':-^^'%K
WOODCRAPf^V
A HANDBOOK FOR VACATION CAMi'k^K,f*^^<S,^Q^
AND FOR V
TRAVELERS IN THE WÎLDERNESa
BY
HORACE KEPHART
Author of "Our Southern Highlanders," "Sporticp
Firearms," "Camp Cookery, '
etc.
Two Volumes in One
Vol. II
WOODCRAFT
THE MACMILLAN COMPANV

1957
Copyright, 197 fi,
Bt the macmillan company
New Edition
Two Vnliiraos in One, 1921
Eighteenth Printing, 1957
All rights reserved —

no part of this book may be
reproduced in any form without permission in writing
from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes
to quote brief passages in connection with a review
written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper.
Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I Woodcraft ...... 13
II —
Getting Lost Bivouacs ... 19
III Pathfinding 37
IV Nature's Guide Posts ... 49
V —
Blazes Survey Lines Use of —
THE Compass .....
— —
60
VI Route Sketching Mapping
Measuring .,»... 80
VII Trips Afoot ...... .118
97
VIII Packs for Pedestrians . .
IX —
How TO Walk A Hunter's Pack
— Going Alone 136
X Concentrated Foods . .150. .
XI Marksmanship in THE Woods . 173

XII AxEMANSHip — Qualities and
Utilization of Wood . . .187
XIII Tomahawk Shelters—Âxemen's
Camps — Caches — Masked
Camps 215
XIV Cabin —
Building Rustic Fur-
niture 236
XV Bark Utensils— Bast Ropes and
Twine— Root and Vine Cordage
—^Withes and Splits . 256 . .
XVI Knots, Hitches and Lashings . 271

CONTENTS
— Pelts, Buckskin and
XVII
A VII I
Trophies
Rawhide .....
Tanning Skins— Other Animal
298
Products . - . . . .321
XIX Cave Exploration .... 337
XX Bee Hunting ^
354
XXI Edible Plants of the V/ilderness 367
XXII Living off the Country In —
Extremis 403
XXIII Accidents and Emergencies;
their Backwoods Treatment 422
.
Index. . 470
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
1
2
Following the
Ox-bow Bends
Wrong Stream .... 22
23
3
4
Need of Base-line ........
One Blaze=/i-way from Camp ....
39
41
5
6
Two Blazes=To-wards Camp
Bush Mark
.... 41
42
7 Use of Divides 46
8 Numbering Sections of a Township , . 66
9 Subdivision of Sections 67
10 Compass Variation 74
11 Meridian by Sun 76
12
13
True North and South
Big Dipper and Pole Star
..,.,, 17
78
14 Route Sketch by Pacing 81
15 Map by Combining Route Sketches 83
16 Route Sketch, by C. H. Morrill .... . .
90
17 Hitches on Measuring Line 91
18 Laying Out a Right Angle 92
19 Width of River by Compass .... 93
20 Measuring Width without Compass . . 93
21 Measuring a Height . 94
22 Extemporized Level 95
23 Pack Harness with Head Strap . . . 119
24 U. S. A. Knapsack 123
25 Rucksack with Flap 123
26 Plain Rucksack 124
27 Rucksack in Use 125
28 29 Norwegian Knapsack 126
30 Tourist's Knapsack 127
31 Nessmuk Pack Sack 127
32 Duluth Pack Sack 129
ZZ Whelen Pack Sack 129
34 Pack Basket 132
35 Abercrombie Pack Frame 132
Z6 Felling Tree 190
Z1 Boggled Notch 190
38 True Notch 190
39 Logging Up . . . 192
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
40 Scoring and Hewing 201
41 Maul 202
42 Gluts 202
43 Cross-section of Tree Trunk 203
44 Rail Splits 203
45 Splitting a Log 204
46 Splitting out Bolts 207
47 Block for Clapboards 207
48 Brake for Riving Boards 208
49 Splitting twith a Froe 208
50 "Run-out" Rift ... 209
51 Springing the Rift 209
52 Double Bolting for Shingles 210
53 Shaving Horse 211
54 Spanish Windlass 213
55 Lopped Tree Den 217
56 Tripod Shelter Frame 217
57 Stake Frame for Lean-to 219
58 Shear Frame for Lean-to 219
59 Bark Tilt 222
60 Bark Lean-to 223
61
62
Beehive Lodge Frame
Beehive Lodge (covered)
....... 223
223
63 Wikiup Frame 224
64 Wattled Work 224
65 Slab Camp 226
66 Log and Frame Camp 228
67 Camp Plan 230
68 Masked Camp 233
69 Log Cabin (ground plan) 237
70 Saddle Notch 242
71 Round Notch 242
72 Tenon-shaped End 242
73 "Trough" Corner 242
74 Fitting Joists 243
75 Log Cabin (end view) 244
76 Fireplace (vertical section) 246
77 Cabin Door 249
78 Pole Bunk 250
79 Table 251
80 Stool 252
81 Bench 252
82 Easy Chair 252
83 Split-bottom Chair 253
84 Fox Wedge ..... - ; 253
85 Bottoming Chair with Splits 254
86 Rustic Chair 254
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
87 Folds for Water-tight Vessel 258
88 Bark Kettle 258
89 Bark Water Bucket 260
90 Bark Trough or Basin 260
91 Bark Barrel 261
92 Bark Berry Pail 261
93 Pocket Cup 261
94 Bark Dipper 263
95 Fold for Fish Bucket 263
96 Bark Fish Bucket 264
97 Becketing Hoops 269
98 Parts of Rope 272
99 Overhand Knot 211
100 Double Overhand Knot 272
101 Figure-of-Eight Knot 272
102 Thief Knot 272
103 Granny Knot 272
104 Reef Knot 272
105 Weaver's Knot 272
106 Double Bend 272
107 Carrick Bend 272
108 Lapped Overhand Knot
109 Water Knot
...... 272
272
110 Double Water Knot 272
111 Leader Knot 276
112 Half Hitch 276
113 Two Half Hitches 276
114 Multiple Hitch 276
115 Rolling Hitch 276
116 Fisherman's Bend 276
117 Blackwall Hitch 276
118 Clove Hitch (over post) 276
119 Clove Hitch (overhand) 276
120 Clove Hitch and Half Hitch 276
121 Magnus Hitch 276
122 Cleat Tie 276
123 Timber Hitch 276
124 Killick Hitch 276
125 Ring Hitch 276
126 Lark's Head 276
127 Catspaw , 276
128 Latigo Lash 280
129 Openhand Eye Knot 280
130 Midshipman's Hitch 280
131 Bowline Knot 280
132 Fisherman's Eye Knot 280
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
133 Loop Knot 280
134 Central Draught Loop 280
135 Slip Knot 280
136 Draw Knot 280
137 True Bow Knot 280
138 Slippery Hitch 280
139 Slippery Clove Hitch 280
140 Running Bowline 284
141 Running Noose with Stopper 284
142 Lark Boat Knot 284
143 Sheet Bend with Toggle 284
144 Hitching Tie 284
145 Hitching Tie (another) 284
146 Sheepshank 284
147 Bowline on a Bight 284
148 Man Sling 284
149 Boatswain's Chair 284
150 Plank Sling 284
151 Bak Hitch . . . , 284
152 Pack Sling 284
153 Harness Hitch 284
154 Can Sling 290
155
156
Parcel Lashing
Bottle Cork Tie
......... 290
290
157 Handcuff Knot 290
158 Ledger Lashing 290
159 Putlog Lashing 290
160 Malay Hitch 290
161 Paling Hitch 290
162 Lever Knot 290
163 Necklace Tie 290
164 Pole Splice 290
165 Rod Winding 294
166 Loop Bend 294
167 Eight Bend 294
168 Tarn Hitch 294
169 Double Hitch 294
170 Tiller Hitch 294
171 Double Loop 294
172 Loop to Line 294
173 Loop on Knot 294
174 Half Hitch Jam Knot . 294
175 Common Dropper Loop 294
176 Tam Knot 294
177 Turle Knot 294
178 Eight Knot 294
179 Reverse Knot a .j .: 294
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
180 Bow Knot , , . 294
181 Taxidermist's Knife 29Q
182 Skinning a Head 300
183 Bear Skin Stretched to Dry 304
184 Pelt Stretcher 307
185 Splicing Thongs 316
186 Horn Cup 328
187 Lard Pail Lantern 334
188 Cross-section of Cavern 342
189 Map of Part of Mammoth Cave . . . 345
190 Runway Snare 405
191 Baited Snare 406
192 Head of Rattlesnake o 437
193 Surgeon's Knot o , 450
WOODCRAFT
CHAPTER I
WOODCRAFT
Fromthe autumn of 1904 to the winter of 1906
I lived, most of the time, alone in a little cabin on
the Carolina side of the Great Smoky Mountains,
surrounded by one of the finest primeval forests in
the world. My few neighbors were born back-
woodsmen. Most of them dwelt in log cabins of
one or two rooms, roofed with clapboards riven
with a froe, and heated by hardwood logs in wide
stone fireplaces. Many had no cooking-stoves, but
baked on the hearth and fried their meat over the
embers.
Nearly every man in the settlement was a skilled
axeman and a crack shot. Some of them still used
home-made muzzle-loading rifles with barrels over
four feet long. Some of the women still worked
at home-made spinning-wheels and looms. Coon-
skins and ginseng passed as currency at the little
wayside stores. Our manner of life was not essen-
tiallychanged from that of the old colonial frontier.
To
complete this historic setting, we had for neigh-
bors the Eastern Band of Cherokees, who still hold
a bit of their ancient patrimony, on the Okona
Lufty. These Indians, while classed as civilized,
have by no means forgotten all their aboriginal arts.
You may find them, even now, betimes, slipping
13
like shadows through the small game
forest, killing
with cane blow-guns, much longer than themselves,
and small arrows with thistle-down wrapped round
the butts so as to fit the bore.
To
one coming from cities, it was a strange en-
vironment, almost as though he had been carried
back, asleep, upon the wings of time, and had
awakened in the eighteenth century, to meet Daniel
Boone in flesh and blood.*
In such a situation it was natural, nay impera-
tive, that one should pick up and practice certain,
arts long lost and forgotten by civilized communities
but quite essential in our backwoods way of living.
I began, to be sure, with the advantage of experience
gained on many hunting and camping trips in other

lands; but in this new field I had to make shift in a
different way, and fashion many appliances from
materials found on the spot. The forest itself was
not only my hunting-ground but my workshop and
my garden.
Into this novel and fascinating game I entered
with keenest zest, and soon was going even "farther
back" than the native woodsmen themselves. I
gathered, cooked, and ate (with certain qualms, be
it confessed, but never with serious mishap) a great
variety of wild plants that country folk in general

do not know to be edible. I learned better ways of
dressing and keeping and worked out
game and fish,
odd makeshifts in cooking with rude utensils, or

with none at all. I tested the fuel values and other
qualities of a great many kinds of wood and bark,
made leather and rawhide from game that fell to
my rifle, and became more or less adept in other
backwoods handicrafts, seeking not novelties but
practical results.
To what degree I was reverting to the primitive
came home to me one day when a white dame, find-
*For an account of this experience, with_ descriptions of the
southern mountains and their primitive inhabitants, see
Our Southern Highlanders, by Horace Kephart (Outing Pub-
lishing- Co.. New York},
WOODCRAFT 15
ing Will Tahlahlah giving me a lesson in Cherokee,

remarked rather sourly to the redskin: "You need-
n't teach him anything; he's more of an Indian than
you are."
Seldom during those three years as a forest exile
did I feel lonesome in daytime but when supper ;
would be over, and black night closed in on my

hermitage, and the owls began calling all the blue
devils of the woods, one needed some indoor occupa-
tion to keep him in good cheer: and that is how I
came to write my first little book on camping and
woodcraft.
Since then have spent several more years in "the
I
sticks," at much the same kind of life, save that now
I had as partner one of the best woodsmen in this
country, a man so genuinely a scholar in hi? chosen
lore that he could well afford to say, as once he did
to me: "I've studied these woods and mountains all
my life, Kep, like you do your books, and I don't
know them all yet, no sirree." And I now say to
the reader, for myself, just what Bob said to me
about himself, save that my experience covers a less
period of time.
In the school of the woods there is no graduation
day. What would be good woodcraft in one region
might be bad bungling in another. Maine guide A
may scour all the forests of northeastern America,
and feel quite at home in any of them ; but put him
in a Mississippi canebrake, and it is long odds that
he would be, for a time.
Perplexed, bewildered, till Tie scarce doth know

His right forefinger from his leftbig toe.
And a southern cane-cracker would be quite as

much if he were turned
at sea loose in a spruce
forest in winter. But it would not take long for
either of these men to "catch on" to the new condi-
tions; for both are shifty, both are cool-headed, and
both are keen observers. Any man may blunder
once, when confronted by strange conditions; bui
none will repeat the error unless he be possessed by
the notion that he has nothing new to learn.
Woodcraft may be defined as the art of finding
one's way In the wilderness and getting along well
by utilizing Nature's storehouse. When we say
that Daniel Boone, for example, was a master
woodsman, we mean that he could confidently enter
an unmapped wilderness, with no outfit but what
was carried by his horse, his canoe, or on his own
back, and with the Intention of a protracted stay;
that he could find his way through the dense forest
without man-made marks to guide him; that he
knew the habits and properties of trees and plants,
and the ways of fish and game that he was a good
;
trailer and a good shot; that he could dress game

and cure peltry, cook wholesome meals over an open
fire, build adequate shelter against wind and rain,
and keep himself warm through the bitter nights of

—
winter in short, that he knew how to utilize the
gifts of Nature, and could bide comfortably In the
wilderness without help from outside.
When one travels with a guide, It is the guldens
woodcraft that pulls him through. When he goes
on his own hook, he must play the woodsman him-
self. Woodcraft shows at its best when we "go
light" through difficult and unknown country. Its
supreme test is In an emergency, when the equip-
ment, or essential parts of It, have been lost or
destroyed through some disaster.
As for book-learning in such an art, it is useful
only to those who do not expect too much of it.
No book can teach a man how to swing an axe or
follow a faint trail. Nor is it of much account to
one who merely learns by rote, without using his
own wits and common sense as he follows the pages.
Yet a good book is the best stepping-stone for a
beginner. Without It he might bog and flounder
a long time without aim or method. It gives a
clear idea of general principles. It can show, at
least, how not to do a thing — and there is a good
WOODCRAFT if
deal in that —half of woodcraft, as of any other art,

is in knowing what to avoid. That is the difference
between a true knot and a granny knot, and it can
be shown by a sketch as well as with string in hand.
In this work I have preferred to give full details,
so far as the book goes. One's health and comfort
in the wilds very often depend upon close observance
of just such details as breathless people would skip
or scurry over. Moreover, since this is not a guide-
book to any particular region, I have tried to keep
in mind a variety of conditions existing in different
kinds of country, and have suggested alternative
methods or materials, to be used according to cir-
cumstances. One might, perhaps, compress into a
vest-pocket manual all the expedients of woodcraft
that would have to be practised in one certain
locality, say the Adirondacks, but it would be of
little use in a different sort of country.
Of course, no one person is likely to find all of
this volume directly useful to himself. I must ask
him to accept my assurance, based on a considerable
correspondence with outdoor men in many countries,
that there is no chapter in it but is of interest to
somebody. Each reader is supposed to pick out for
himself what bears on his own problems.
The first volume of this work. Camping, is in-
tended mainly for parties who go well equipped and
are guided by natives of the country, and who have
adequate means of transportation, or for those who
go into fixed camp and stay there until the vacation
is over. This one, on Woodcraft, is for those who
travel light, in the real wilderness, rove about a good
deal, and sometimes scatter, every man for himself,
with his life in his own hands.
In the following chapters I offer suggestions on
forest travel, pathfinding, route sketching, what to
do if lost, marksmanship in
outfits for trips afoot,
the woods, emergency foods, qualities and utilization
of wood and bark, camp making with tomahawk or
axe. cabins and rustic furniture, caches and masked
l8 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
camps, knots and lashings, buckskin and rawhide,
tanning pelts, bee hunting, living off the country,
cave exploration, first aid to the injured, and other
shifts and expedients that are handy when one is
far from shops and from hired help.
I have little to say, here, about the selection of
arms and tackle, about hunting, fishing, trailing,
trapping, mountaineering, and nothing about field
photography, canoeing, snowshoeing, or the manage-
ment of horses and pack trains, because each of these
topics deserves a book by itself, and we now have
good ones on all of them.*
Woodcraft properly relates only to the forest
wilderness. The literature of outdoor sport is get-
ting us used to such correlative terms as plainscraft,
mountaincraft, and even icecraft and snowcraft.
This sort of thing can be overdone but we need a ;
generic term to express the art, in general, of getting

on well in wild regions of any and all kinds, whether
in forests, deserts, mountains, plains, tropics or arc-
tics; and for this I would suggest the plain English
compound wildcraft.
any one should get the Impression from these
If
pages that camping out with a light outfit means
little but a daily grind of camp chores, questionable
meals, a hard bed, torment from Insects, and a good
chance of starvation and broken bones at the end, he
will not have caught the spirit of my intent. It Is
not here my purpose to dwell on the charms of free
life In a wild country; rather, taking all that for
granted, I would point out some short-cuts, and offer
a lift, here and there, over rough parts of the trail.
No one need be told how to enjoy the smooth ones.
Hence It Is that I treat chiefly of difficulties, and
how to overcome them.
*See the series of Outing Handbooks, and lists of outdoor books
in outfitters' catalogues.
CHAPTER II
GETTING LOST— BIVOUACS

When a man fixes up his pack and strikes out
alone into strange woods, just for a little adventure,
not caring where he may come out, he may be lost
all the time, in one sense, but in a better sense he is
at home all the time. Not for a moment does he

worry about the future he ; is exploring new territory
—that is all.
But one sets out for a certain destination, ex-

if
pecting to reach it by a given time, and loses the

trail, he will be anxious at once, and the longer this
continues, the more it will get on his nerves. Still
we would hardly call him lost, so long as he retains
a good idea of the general direction in which he
should travel.
A
man is really lost when, suddenly (it is always
suddenly), there comes to him the thudding con-
sciousness that he cannot tell, to save his life, whether
he should go north, east, south or west. This is an
unpleasant plight to be in, at any time the first time ;
that it is experienced the outlook will seem actually

desperate.
Instantly the unfortunate man
is overwhelmed by
a sense of utter though leagues and

isolation, as
leagues of savage forest surrounded him on all sides,
through which he must wander aimlessly, hopelessly,
until he drops from exhaustion and starvation.
Nervously he consults his compass, only to realize
that it is of no more service to him now than a brass
button. He starts to retrace his steps, but no sign
of footprint can he detect. He is seized with a
19
ao CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
panic of fear, as irrational but quite as urgent as
that which swoops upon a belated urchin when he
is passing a country graveyard at night. It will
take a mighty effort of will to rein himself in and
check a headlong stampede.
—
Panic. In such predicament as this, a man is
really in serious peril. The danger is not from the
wilderness, which, pitiless niggard though it be to
the weak-minded or disabled, can yet be forced to
yield food and shelter to him who is able-bodied and
who keeps his wits about him. No: the man's
danger is from himself.
I have heard old woodsmen say that there is no
use in offering advice to novices about what they
should do if they get lost, because a lost man is an
insane m.an, anyway, and will remember nothing
that has been told him. Certainly it is true that if
a man in such a strait permits panic to conquer him,
he is likely either to perish or to come out of the
woods a gibbering lunatic. There have been many
such cases. But not true that they are the rule.
it is
Thousands of wayfarers have been lost for a day,

two days, or longer, without losing their self-com-
mand. And there really is no valid excuse for an
able-bodied person going out of his head from being
bewildered in the big woods so long as he has a gun
and ammunition, or even a few dry matches and a
jackknife. The first time I was lost, I was rattled
and shook all over. Something seemed to tell me
that camp lay in a certain direction, and I felt the
same impulse to rush madly toward it that one feels
to dash for the door when there is a cry of *'fire!"
in a theater. But I did remember what old Barnes
—
had told me: "If you get lost, sit downl sit down
and give yourself half an hour to think it over." I
sat down, and for five minutes could not think of
anything, except cold, and rain, and hunger. Then
—
BIVOUACS 21
I got to drawing diagrams on the ground. Making

no headway at began considering how to pass
this, I
the night if I remained just where I was.
This cleared my mind, robbed the woods of their
spooks, and presently I was myself again. Then the
actual situation flashed upon me. I saw just how
I had got into this scrape, and knew that if I made
a circuit of 200 yards radius I would strike the trail.
Before this it had seemed at least two miles away.
Well, I found it, all right. Had I listened to the
demon of flight, in the first place, I would have
plunged into one of the worst canebrakes in all Ar-
kansas, and might have struggled there till I died
all within a mile and a half of my own camp.
I have been lost several times: in canebrakes, in
flat woods of the overflow country, in the laurel, in
fog, above the clouds (in the sense that I did not
know on which side to descend from an aiguille or
bare pinnacle of rock), and in caverns. The cave
experiences were hair-raising, but the others were
Dnly incidents to chuckle over in retrospect, although
I have scorched the back of more than one coat from
lying too near a bivouac fire. A bad record, you
will say, for one who assumes to tell others how to
keep from getting lost! Well, maybe so; but the
fact that I am still on deck may be some excuse for
offering a little counsel as to what to do if you
should get lost.
I do not think that one can get the best of wild
life if he does not often *'go it alone." Men who
are interested in the guiding business may say other-
wise. If one does go it alone, he may as well take
it for granted that, sooner or later, he will get lost
and have to stay out over night, or for several nights,

alone. There is no man, white or red, who is not
liable to lose his bearings in strange woods if he is
careless. If an Indian is seldom at fault as to his
course it is because he pays close attention to busi-
ness; he does not lose himself in reverie, nor is his
mind ever so concentrated on an object that he fails
to notice irregular or uncommon things along the
way. And yet, even Indians and white frontiers-
men sometimes get lost.
have been with a first-class woodsman when he
I
got mixed up on his own home hunting-ground an —
overflow from the Mississippi, flooding sixty miles-
inland, had swept away
old landmarks, replaced
them with new ones,
and changed the ap-
pearance of the coun-
try; then, subsiding, it
had even altered the

drainage of the land.
P
^. At such a time the
1.— T-
1 ,1 . ,
Fig. Following the . -u r ^ *.
,,. o. water
or a tributary
Wrong Stream ^ n
may actually run up-
stream. In fog or snowstorm anybody can get lost.
You may take a professional guide from New Bruns-
wick, let us say, or from Florida it matters not —
—
where place him in a new country where outlooks
are few, and where the vegetation, the rocks and
soil, and the general features of the country, are
strange to him, and, if he does not get lost, it will
be because he thinks more about avoiding it than he
does about anything else.
Those who scout the idea of their ever losing bear-
ings are such as have traveled little in strange lands,
or have never ventured far without a native guide.
Personally, I would rather get lost now and then
than be forever hanging on to a guide's coat-tail. It
is a matter of taste. Anyway, I shall never again
have the willyjigs as I had 'em that first time, when
I was actually within forty rods of a plain trail.
In THE Mountains. —There is little excuse for
getting lost, in fair weather, in a mountainous or
undulating country where there are plenty of water-
courses, unless one gets on the wrong side of a divide
that separates two streams which do not run into
each other. Thus, in Fig. i, let be a main ABC
BIVOUACS 23
divide, BD
a spur to the southward separating two
streams that eventually flow in opposite directions,
and let X
be the location of the camp. stranger A
who had spent the day on the upper mountains
might return toward evening to B, and, thinking to
follow the creek from / to X, might turn down at
Cj by mistake, and travel a considerable distance be-
fore he realized that he was going in the wrong
direction.
Flat Woods. — In flat woods, where the water-
courses are few and very meandering, the vegetation
rank and monotonously uniform in appearance, and
landmarks rare, a man may
return within 200 yards
of his own camp and pass by it, going ahead with
hurrying pace as he becomes more and more anxious.
In Fig. 2 a man leaves camp X
in the morning, go-
ing in the direction indicated by the dotted line. H^
consults his compass at intervals during the day,
tries to allow for his windings, and, returning in the
evening, strikes the river at Z. If he follows its
bank in either direction,
he is likely to spend
the
night alone in the woods.
If the camp were at A,
and the homeward-bound
hunter should reach the
stream at B, he would be
dumbfounded to find him-
self, apparently, on the
wrong bank of the river.
Another easy way to get
bewildered is as follows:
In Fig. 2 we will assume
that the current runs from • ^
A toward Z, that a party Fig. 2.— Ox-bow Bends
unfamiliar with the river
is descending it in a boat, and that one of the men
leaves the boat at Aj going ashore to hunt along the

bank. At X
he comes to the mouth of a deep creek,
«r some other obstruction, or he starts game that
leads him back into the woods. Not long afterward
he reaches the river again at Z, and, after hallooing
and firing a shot or two, but getting no answer, he
hurries on down-stream, thinking that the boat got
ahead of him while he was making his detour. The
boat, meanwhile, has been rounding a great ox-bow
curve, and may be a couple of miles behind the man
ashore.
In each of these examples the country is assumed
to be fairly easy to traverse, and in each case the
misadventure might have been avoided by a little
forethought. A
bush bent over, here and there, a
blaze on a tree where the underbrush was dense,
would have saved all that. Without such precau-
tions, there are places where a man can get badly
muddled in a forty-acre tract. This is no exaggera-
tion. One of my companions once was lost from
early morning until after nightfall in a thirty-acre
patch of blue cane. He struggled until almost com-
pletely exhausted, and when we found him he looked
like a scarecrow. At no time had he been half a
mile from the cabin.
Thickets. —A canebrake is bad enough, but it is
not so bad as those great tracts of rhododendron
which, in the region between Thunderhead and
the Balsam Mountains (Tennessee and North Caro*
lina) cover mile after mile of steep mountainside
where few men have ever been. The natives call such
wastes "laurel slicks," "woolly heads," "lettuce beds,"
"yaller patches," and "hells." The rhododendron is
worse than laurel, because it is more stunted and
grows much more densely, so that it is quite impossi-
ble to make a way through it without cutting, foot by
foot and the wood is very tough.
; Two powerful
mountaineers starting from the Tennessee side to
cross the Smokies were misdirected and proceeded up
the slope of the Devil's Court House, just east of
Thunderhead. They were two days in making the as-
cent, a matter of three or four miles, notwithstanding
that they could see out all the time and pursued the
BIVOUACS 25
shortest possible course. I asked one of them how
they managed to crawl through the thicket. "We

couldn't crawl," he replied, "we swum," meaning
that they sprawled and floundered over the top.
These men were not lost at all. In a "bad laurel"
(heavily timbered), not very far from this, an old
hunter and trapper who was born and bred in these
mountains, was lost for three days, although the
maze was not more than a mile square. His account
of it gave it the name that it bears today, "Muggins's
hell."
I could give many such instances, but these will
suffice to show that there still is virgin ground in
some of our oldest States. The far West and the
far North present problems of their own. Exten-
sive swamps are the worst places of all, above
ground. As for caves, and how not to get lost in
them, I will have something to say in another chap-
ter.
What to Do. — No
matter where, or in what
circumstances, you may moment you realize
be, the
that you have lost your bearings, there is just one
thing for you to do: STOPl Then sit down.
Now any man can remember that. It is a bit of
"book learning" that no man can afford to despise.
It is the one and only way to clear your wits, to
drive off the demon of panic, and it is sure to help
get you out of your predicament.
Then, if you are a smoker, light your pipe if not, ;
chew a twig. It won't take long for you to recover

sense enough to know that if you stay right where
you are until morning your companions, by that
time, will be searching for you. They will be scour-
ing the woods, hallooing, firing guns, scouting for
your trail. Suppose you do have to stay out all
night, alone in the woods; nothing will hurt you.
The stories of bears or pantherspouncing on sleep-
ing men are all tommyrot. So keep your shirt on.
How long has it been since you were where you
zuere certain of your location? Probably not a long
time. Suppose you have traveled half an hour after
leaving a known landmark. What is half an hour
in the woods? Amile, say; perhaps not so much;
for one does not keep up a steady jog in the wilder-
ness; he often pauses to look or listen, and is bound
to move slowly when off a beaten path.
But you don't want to stay here like a numbskull
and face the sly grins or open ridicule of a searching
party? Very well, the bugaboos are fleeing. Now
take a stick, make a bare spot on the ground, and
try to trace your probable course from the time of
leaving camp to the time you first suspected you
might be wandering astray. Mark on it the esti-
mated location of such landmarks as you noticed.
If you are not altogether a tenderfoot, you will re-
member how many streams or ridges you have
crossed. Anyway, you will recall some features of
the country you traversed. Not unlikely, when
your mind has recovered its equipoise, you will be
able to "backtrack" without much difficulty.
But in any case, no matter how confident you
may be, dont take ten steps from the place where
you are until you have marked it. If the location
is favorable for a smoke sign (in flat woods' it is of
no avail) build a fire, with enough damp or punky

stuff on it to keep up a smoke for a good while, and
bank it with earth so it cannot spread. Or, blaze
—
a tree on four sides make big blazes that can be
seen from any direction. Do this even though there
be several hours of daylight ahead, and although you
have no present intention of staying here; for you
do know that this spot is only so many hours from
camp by back trail, and that you may have good
reason to return to it. This blazed tree, moreover,
will be of great assistance to your camp-mates \n
searching for you, if you should not turn up later
Then take note of the lay of the land around you,
the direction of its drainage, the character of its
vegetation, and the hospitalities that it offers to a

jftight-bound traveler, in the way of drinking-water.
BIVOUACS 27
sound down-wood for an all-night fire, natural shel-
ter, and browse or other bedding.
Now when you start out to recjver the trail, make
bush-marks as you go along (see Chapter III, Fig.
6) otherwise it will be the easiest thing in the world
;
to lose the way back to that blazed tree.

In trying to pick up your old footprints don't give
much attention to dry ground, except where there
may be dusty places, or rocks where your hobnails
might have left scratches. Look for tracks (I don't
mean run around hunting for them) in the damp
places that you pass, mossy spots, swales, margins of
brooks, and for "scrapes" on the tops of fallen logs.
When searching for a trail, do not look close to
your feet, but three or four jârds ahead of you for
;
a faint trail is more readily seen at that angle than

by looking straight down upon it. Cast your eyes
also from side to side, bearing in mind what a trail
should look like when you walk parallel with it, as
well as when approaching at right angles.
If you get a shot at a squirrel or other animal (of
course, you don't wander around looking for them)
kill it and tie it fast to you. It is one of the little
ironies of wilderness life that food may be extra-
ordinarily scarce —
when you most need it and that
may be to-morrow.
Bu^ if you don't soon find that back track of
yours, and if no familiar landmark shows up before
the sun is within an hour of setting, QUIT IT for
the day. It is high time, now, that you go right to
work to make yourself snug for the night. Your
success or failure to-morrow will depend very much
upon what kind of a night's rest you get.
—
Bivouacs. In nearly every story that you read
of a lost man's misadventures you find him struggling
desperately on until black night shuts down. Then
he throws his exhausted body upon the cold, damp
ground, soon to awaken in bitter misery, and back
himself up against a tree, to droop there through
the long, long hours or, the cold being intense, and
;
—
he without one dry match, the man totters crazlly
all night,'round and 'round, to keep from freezing.
What could he be fit for next day?
Of course, if the Swiss Family Robinson should
get turned around in the forest primeval, they at
once would find a shallow cave, a projecting ledge,
a great hollow tree, or some other natural shelter
ready-made on the spot. We
often come across
such natural harborages in the wilderness when we —
don't need them. (Three of us hunters once spread
our blankets inside a hollow cypress and had room
to spare.) But no special providence looks after
lost men.
It so easy to make a comfortable "one-
would be
night stand" if you had a knapsack of supplies on
your back! Yes, you could get along very well if
only you had a featherweight poncho, a i2-ounce
tomahawk, and several big bites of grub (next time
you go out alone you will have them). But to-day
you just went off to one side after a crippled deer,
or something, and your outfit comprises nothing but
a gun and the contents of your pockets. Pretty
prospect, isn't it?
"Under the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me" . . .
is allvery nice on a summer's day; but under the

greenwood tree on a cold night in the big sticks, and
the Lord knows where, with no 7ne to share who^s
troubles —
oh, darn Shakespeare!
Well, you must rustle. Just now you need four
things.
(i) Water.
(2) A fire that won't go out till morning.
(3) A windbreak to keep the other side of you

warm.
(4) A
bed to rest your bones and to keep off the
chill of the ground.
And, my friend, you want to get these things with
the least expenditure of time and effort. Night ap-
—
BIVOUACS 29
proaches; to-morrow may be a hard day. Besides,

you are quite too tired already to waste the crook of
your finger on non-essentials, while aimless pottering
would be your ruin. The job must be tackled
methodically.
So think back along your recent route and recall
the best place where all four of those things you
—
need are to be found that is, the raw materials
and go to it.
I am assuming that the night is likely to be cold,

but that there is no indication of rain or snow
that contingency will be considered later.
In a primitive forest there are big fallen trees on
nearly every acre. Find a sound one that lies flat
on level ground. You might use it either as a back-
log or as a windbreak; the latter in this case, since
you are to erect no shelter. In summer, a bed of
dead leaves piled against the log, with a small fire
in front, would be a good cubby for the night. But
we assume that there will be frost.
Select the spot that you intend to lie on (leeward
side of the log, of course), cover it with dry brush,
and set it afire. The object is to dry out the ground
and heat it. If the tree is not punky it will stand
a considerable blaze close to it without igniting more
than little spots on the bark, which can be extin-
guished with a handful or two of dirt. But don't,
on your life, kindle a fire against a decayed or hollow
—
log you never could be sure of putting it out. If
there are no sound down-logs, build an artificial
windbreak of poles laid on top of each other and
chinked with earth.
You first have raked the leaves together toward
the center so that the fire cannot spread. Don't
make too big a blaze at a time. When the ground
you are to sleep on is burned ofF, keep a fire of small
sticks going on it for half an hour, the length and
width you are to occupy. Meantime you will be
dragging in, and piling on one side, all the sound,
dry wood you can get, for the night's fuel. Get
long sticks, as big as you can handle, and plenty of
them. Perhaps there are some old pine stumps that
you can uproot. Don't fool with soggy, decayed
stuff. Probably the top of your fallen tree will
furnish a lot of broken limbs that sprangle enough
to have been kept mostly off the ground and have
seasoned hard.
When you have plenty of night-wood piled up,
take a pair of sticks and rake the embers of your
brush fire forward to a place five or six feet In front
of your bed. Build there your night fire. Tramp
down all embers left by the first fire, and carefully
extinguish any smoking spots on the tree. If the
log does not quite meet the ground, chink the open-
ings with dirt.
If there are evergreen bushes at hand, they make
the best bedding (balsam, hemlock, spruce, in that
—
order even pine or cedar will do In a pinch). You
won't have time to make a real browse bed (de-
scribed In Chapter XIII of this book), but remem-
ber that the smaller the sticks under you, the better
you will rest. If there are no evergreens, then use
moss, ferns, grass, or whatever other soft stuff you
may find. Dead leaves and pine needles are the last
choice, as they are inflammable. If you have time,
make that bed two feet deep.
The ground that you are going to sleep on Is dry
and hot, and will stay so a long time, being Insulated
by the bedding stuff. The log behind you Is warm,
and it will shield you from the wind. You have
effected a double economy, because a small fire in
front will suffice until the cold hours on the far side
of midnight, for which time the bulk of your fuel Is
to be saved.
Don't fire any distress signals until shortly before
dark earlier ones would be attributed to some wan-
;
dering hunter. But when the shadows begin to fall,

and 5'ôu have not shown up, your comrades will be-
gin to grow uneasy and will listen for signals. The
best signal with a gun is g shot, a pause of teiv
BIVOUACS 31
seconds, and then two shots In quick succession.

The first attracts attention, the others give the direc-
tion. If the men of your party hear you they will
reply instantly. But
you hear no answer, do not
if
try again for half an hour. Save aTninunition. You

will need it worse to-morrow, for signalling as you
travel, and to get meat with.
If your camp-fire smokes badly. It Is because It lies
too flat on the ground for air to get under It. Build
it on thick chunks, or on rocks if there are flat ones
to be found.
So long as It does not rain, the problem of keeping
warm without a blanket Is not serious. If more
covering is demanded, and there are enough small
balsams in the neighborhood, one can make a deep
bed of the browse, lay two or three poles over It,
pile a lot of boughs on top, and then, by manipulat-
ing the poles, insinuate himself between the twc
layers. This will help very much to prevent too
rapid radiation of the bodily heat. Another good
kink is to get a number of stones, six to eight Inches
in diameter, heat them before the fire, and place
them around wherever the cold is felt. Have
jôu
others heating in the meantime, and change from
time to time. To lift and carry them, cut a small
forked limb close to the joint, leaving two feet of
each fork for handles, put the crotch over the rock,
and press inward with the handles.
Perhaps, instead of a fallen tree, you may have
the good luck to find a big uptilted rock with flat
face, long enough to serve as windbreak, or a ledge,
with enough level ground in front of it for your
purpose. Rock holds heat a long time, yet gener-
ously radiates It. The warm air from the camp-fire
will eddy around it.
A man withouta blanket can bivouac In the way

here described, and get a pretty good night's rest,
even In freezing weather. If It snows, a browse
bed-covering will help. But a chill fall rain Is some-
thing else. Ugh Maybe you can twist up enough
!
—
evergreen shrubs with your hands to build a kennel
of some sort, but its slope must be steeper than 45°
to do any good. If you find old logs from which
sheets of bark can be peeled with a stick whittled
wedge-shape at one end, you can make a pent-roof
over your bed. Slope some sticks from the far side
of the big log that serves as windbreak, forward over
your bed, weight them down with rocks or a heavy
stick, and shingle the bark over the upper ends. But
—
you are in for a night of it the best you can do
all for the lack of what "Nessmuk's" scoffers called
his "limber-go-shiftless pocket axe." With the like
of it you could build a good shelter of bark or of
browse, such as will be described in a future chapter.

Among my most valued possessions is a tiny Col-
clesser tomahawk, of 8-ounce head and 2înch
bitt, which, with hickory handle and home-made
sheath, weighs only three-quarters of a pound. I
seldom go anywhere in the woods (unless in march-
ing order with a heavier axe) without this little trick.
It is all that is needed to put up a satisfactory shelter
wherever there is hemlock or balsam, or bark that
will peel, while for other service I use it oftener
than I domy jackknife.
Fire Without Matches. —So far I have taken
for granted that you have matches and that they are
dry. Damp ones, by the way, may be restored by
rubbing through the hair or, place a match between
;
the palms of your hands, with its head projecting a

trifle, and roll it briskly back and forth; in a short
time it will be dry enough to light.

But suppose you have no matches. Well, with a
shotgun the task of making fire is easy with a mod-
;
ern rifle, or pistol, that uses jacketed bullets, it is

not so easy, because the bullet is hard to get out of
the shell —
still you can manage it by cutting length-
wise through the neck of the shell and prying the

bullet out.
Firstmake all preparations needed to ensure suc-
cess when vou get the flame. Build up vour wood
BIVOUACS 33
leady to light, the kindh'ng being stood up on end
against the larger sticks in a half-cone shape, with
opening at the bottom, in front, for tinder. This
last may be very dry shredded bark, fine slivers of
fat pine, or any dry splinters, pounded between two
rocks until the fibers separate. In a rain you can
get dry stuff from the inside of a hollow tree.
Worry the bullet out of the cartridge; sprinkle
most of the powder (smokeless, I assume) on the
tinder, leaving only a few grains in the shell. Then
tear a bit of dry cotton cloth (lining from your
clothing, for instance) with fluffy edges, and with
this loosely fill the nearly emptied cartridge. Put
it in your gun, and fire up into the air.
straight
The and either will be
cloth will drop close to you,
aflame or, at least, burning so that you can blow it
into a blaze. Drop this quickly on your tinder, and
the trick is done. Remember, you want only
enough pov/der in the cartridge to blow the bit of
rag a few feet into the air. Very little will do.
Sparks may be struck from flint, quartz, or pyrites,
by striking a glancing blow with the back of a knife
or other piece of hard steel. The chief difl^culty is
to catch the sparks. Hold the flint between thumb

and finger of left hand, and some tinder in the
hollow of the same hand. Tinder for this purpose
is made by tearing (not cutting) cotton cloth into
a long, narrow strip, and rolling it up like a roller

bandage, but a bit spirally, so that the fluffy edge
will overlay a little at each revolution, thus forming
a nest of lint at one end of the roll, into which the
sparks are to be struck. As soon as it catches, blow
it into a flame.
The
lens of a field-glass, or the outer lens of a
camera, may do service as a burning glass; but it is
another of the little ironies that the sun probably
isn't shining when you get lost.
As for the fire-drill so dramatically exploited by
popular lecturers, who make fire with sticks in less
than a minute, it is all right provided you have the
right material, which must be soft, non-resinous
wood, thoroughly seasoned, brash, but not the least
punky. In most situations it would be accidental
if a lost man should find such wood. As a matter
of fact, savages carry their fire-sticks with them, as
we do matches.
—
Next Morning. A night's rest, even though
fitful, will have cleared your mind a good deal. By
this time you probably will iiave a definite theory
of location, based upon what you know of the rela-
tion of the camp site to the surrounding country,
and the general course of your wanderings. And
you will feel much better at having a whole day of
sunlight ahead of you.
The first effort will be to get an outlook over the
surrounding country. In the hills this is easy, but
in a level country heavily timbered it is difficult.
If you are a good climber, pick out a tall tree and
go up as high as you can get. Where the trunks
are too thick for climbing, select a big tree that has
a slender one growing beside it from which you can
clamber into the lower limbs of the old one. But
don't risk a broken limb of your own —that might
be fatal.
Having gained your outlook, note the compass
direction of watercourses and other landmarks, map-
ping them on a piece of paper; for a lost man's
memory is treacherous. The courses of small
streams show where the main valley lies. Look for
smoke. Your comrades will have raised one, if there
be a woodsman among them.
Now decide whether to try to reach camp or to
"break out" to a known road or settlement. If stiD
completely bewildered, then there is but one thing
to do: work down country, either along a stream or
a divide. If you do this, even in a remote district,
it cannot be more than a few days until you reach
habitations of men. In the meantime you may suffer,

but you certainly need not starve nor freeze. li
you have no one definite objective, but are merely
—
BIVOUACS 53
going downcountry, do not try to steer a straight

course, but save your strength by following the
easiest way, being careful merely to keep the general
direction. Follow divides, rather than streams, for
reasons that will be given in the next chapter.
But we will assume that you have an idea which
way camp lies. Take the compass direction from
your outlook, note how the sun bears as you face
that way, pick out a mark in line with the course,
and steer for it —
then from this to another, and so
on. But, before leaving the site of your bivouac,
blaze a tree and pencil on it the time of your start
and the direction you intend to travel in. This will
be invaluable to your mates if they track you up.
At intervals of half an hour or so, fire a distress
signal, if you can spare the ammunition dont waste
it.
As you travel, make bush marks and blazes along

the course. It may be necessary to return; others
can follow your trail by them; and, if you should
circle, you will know it when you come across your
old marks.
Circling. —^When a man travels w^here there is
no outlook over the surrounding country, he is apt

to "circle." In going around obstacles he may
choose habitually the same side, and not make
enough allowance for this tendency when averaging
up his windings. But many men have an uncon
scious leaning toward one side or the other, even in
open country, even on horseback, and will tend to
travel in a circle unless they frequently check their
course by compass or landmarks. Just why, we do
not know. It is said that only an ambidextrous
man goes straight naturally. Most men swerve to
the right, and, since most of us are right-handed, it
may be that when there is nothing else to guide u^
we incline toward the stronger side.
I offer this explanation for what it may be worth.
Anyway, the tendency to travel in a circle is common
to most men when they are lost, Mr. C
C. Filson
says that a lost man once came to his camp who had
walked continuously for six days and nights and was
only about six miles from his starting point. Five
hours of travel in any one direction would have
taken him out of the woods and saved him the sub-
sequent loss of both feet by freezing.
To avoid circling, one must travel by landmarks,
or, where none are visible, as in thick woods, then
by compass. Consult the instrument every two or
three minutes, for a slight deviation, persisted in,
soon swings you far aside. After going around an
obstacle to the right, even up, by walking as far to
the left. —
Don't travel too fast it would excite you,
wear you out, and keep you from marking your
trail as you went along. Keep a stiff upper lip, and
assure yourself that this is not a tragedy but only an
interesting adventure —then it will turn out so.
How to live off the country, in case of being out
a long time, will be discussed hereafter.
By the time you get out of this predicament you
will agree that the art of not getting lost is worth
studying. Let me now direct our attention to it.
CHAPTER in
PATHFINDING
I never knew a native of the wilderness who used
a compass to guide him. The born backwoodsman
rehes upon the sun and stars, the direction of the
wind, the courses of streams, prominent landmarks,
and other natural signs of direction. That kind of
pathfinding will be discussed later. It is essential
in the education even of an amateur woodsman that
he should learn to steer a course, over average
ground and under ordinary conditions, without re-
course to map or compass for one can't be pottering
;
over them when hunting or doing anything else of

absorbing interest. Yet he should never be without
them in the field; in emergencies they are simply
invaluable.
On a windless, cloudy day, when boring through
new country, especially if it be heavily timbered, it
is quite too easy to lose one's bearings if the compass
has been left behind. In thick fog or fast-falling
snow, the best of men may go astray for lack of the
faithful needle. Make it a rule, then, an Iron rule,
of wilderness never to leave your bed in the
life,
morning without compass, jackknife, and waterproof

matchbox filled (fill it, as a matter of habit, every
time you wind your watch). A
small section of
map showing the principal features of the country
round about is another mighty good thing to have
always on your person, no matter how you may be
dressed for the day or what you may be intending
to do. There is no telling when you may be called
off on the keen jump, nor whither you may have to
go.
37
—
For instance: one time a big buck ran right
through camp while we were cooking dinner; in the
flurry, everybody grabbed some other fellow's gun,
somebody wounded the beast, and there was a long
chase without the least preparation in the world.
A-gain, we were all out picketing the mountain for a
bear drive; the bear avoided all the likely crossings
and slipped by within fifty yards of camp. Now
suppose you had been left there as camp-keeper for
the day. You snatch up a gun, fire, find blood on
the trail, follow it a couple of hours, and then
"where are you at?"
Aside from their value in emergencies, the compass
and map are particularly useful to keep you out of
trouble. The best advice in the world is "Don't get
lost." The only way make
reasonably sure of
to
that to mind your P's and Q's (or rather your
is
N and S) m
advance. For example:
—
Base Lines. ^You have camped in a pleasant bit
of flat-woods, on the margin of a stream, at A (Fig.
3) .In the morning you decide to go out by yourself
for a look-see, not hunting, of course, but just to get
a good idea of the lay of the land. You know that
the river runs north and south. Simplest thing in
the world, then, to tramp eastward a couple of hours,
and return in time for dinner. You can't cross that
river without knowing it, and camp is right on the
river bank, you know.
The forest is fairly open for the first mile or so
and you steer an approximately straight course.
Then you strike bogs and thickets, not bad ones nor
big ones, but just enough to make you average your
windings by glancing at the compass now and then.
Presently the going is better, and you continue nearly
straight east until you reach B, when it is time to
return. You are sure that your course has been
almost due east, and that you are about four miles
from camp. You take compass bearings due west
as far as you can see out, and back you .ô. Bu/
PATHFINDING 39
you can't trail your own foot-prints. It would take
one of Fenimore Cooper's redskins to do so over
this firm ground covered with dry fallen leaves. No
matter: you have a compass, haven't you?
Soon, at a point where your outbound course bore
a bit northerly, you pass it, unknowingly, by
going straight back west. You feel certain that you
are steering right; for that compass is in your hand
half the time.
Y ^ ^ V w f
Fig. 3. — Need of Base line
Hang it! here is a bog. To the left it looks im-

practicable. You go around to the right, and then
carefully even up the winding by swerving left an
equal distance. Some lesser curves hereafter are
allowed for in the same way. Finally you come
out on the river. You knoiu your return course has
been very nearly due west. But the confounded
river doesn't look a bit like it did at camp! You
struggle to the bank through thick undergrowth,
and when you get there you can't see two hundred
yards of the stream in either direction. There is a
jungle to the water's edge.
40 CAMPING AND WOODCR.\FT
Well, you are either above or below camp. But
which? Maybe old Leatherstocking could tell; but
you can't, to save your life. You might as well
pitch a penny for it. At random you turn down-
stream. Very soon you come to an abrupt bend
going westward. There was no indication of such
a bend close to camp. Probably the tents are up-
stream, you say. So you turn about-face and go
north. Still an utterly strange river.
By one o'clock you realize that you are going
wrong. Camp couldrit be so far off from where
you struck the river. So you turn wearily back
downstream, and, late in the afternoon you reach
camp, feeling like a fool, and silently swearing never
to tell a soul the true story of your misadventure.
This is one of the simplest cases of "bumfuzzle-
ment" that I can think of. It might have been
complicated by any of a hundred difficulties or mis'
haps that are common in the wilderness. Yet,
simple as it was, it gave you no little anxiety and
it ended in humiliation.
The trouble was that you started out in the

wrong way. You should have explored a few miles
of the river first. This would have given you a
known base-line, to which you could return with
perfect confidence from any direction. You could
have marked that base-line with blazes every half-
mile or thereabouts, on which were penciled the
number of minutes' travel each location was from
camp, the arrangement of blazes showing which way
camp lay.
Where there is no river, road, or range of hills,
running in a long continuous line to serve as base —
nothing, say, but trackless forest —
the first thing to
do is to run such a line by compass, spotting the
trees, as will be described hereafter. I am assuming,
here, that camp is to remain in one place for some
time.
Trail Making. —Various kinds of blazed trails
will be described in the next chapter. There is z
PATHFINDING 41
way that 1 consider better for a man or a party

venturing into strange woods where there are few
if any old trails —
better because it always shows
which way camp lies, and because it takes much less
labor than spotting trees so close together that the
next blaze ahead can always be seen from the one
preceding it. At such intervals as may be required,
blaze a tree here and there along the course, with
one spot on the side away from camp (Fig. 4) anc*.
two on the opposite side (Fig, 5), Even when a
Fig. 4. — One Blaze Fig. 5. —Two blazes

/4-way from Camp To-wavd Camp
man is bewildered he can remember "A blaze means

a-way from, two blazes means /o-ward."
A blaze with a hack below It (simply drive the
hatchet into the bark and draw it out) is easier and
quite as effective. And between the blazed trees,
at such intervals that you can see one from another,
or as circumstances may require, make bush marks
(Fig. 6). A bush mark is made by bending over
the top of a green and leafy bush in the direction
you are going, snapping the stem (if necessary clip-
ping it half through with knife or hatchet) but let-
ting it adhere by part of the wood and bark so that
the under side of the bushy top will "look at you"
42 CAMPINC5 AND WOODCRAFT
when you return. The under side of the leaves,
being of lighter shade than the upper, makes such a
bush sign conspicuous In the woods. Marks like
these can be made without slacking one's pace.
Where a bend In the trail Is made, the blazes, in-
stead of being opposite, should follow the bend, of
course.
Blazing trees Is prohibited on public lands, and the
practice should be limited to remote regions where
there are no regular trails. A blaze is everlasting,
so long as the tree stands, and may cause trouble
over land boundaries In years to come. Where un-
derbrush is scarce. It may be necessary to spot the
trees, but generally It will suffice merely to hack o£F
a bit of the outer bark as big as your hand, without
cutting into the sapwood.
The snow-laden limbs of
Outgoing Course- low evergreen trees may
droop so low as to conceal
blazes on the trunks, and
driving snow may cover
them anyway, on any kind
of tree. Consequently bush
marks are more reliable
than blazes in winter, if
the snow
not too deep.
Is
In average country, bush

marks alone will suffice.
When ôing out on an
old trail for the first timq
Fig. 6.— Bush Mark make such a mark where-
ever you might be in doubt
on the return, as where the trail forks, or where it
is overgrown or faint. If there are no bushes, jab
a stick into the side of the trail, sloping toward
camp, or arrange a few stones in the form of an
arrow-head, pointing the way.
Of course, such precautions as these are only to
be taken on new ground, and then only according;
to circumstances. Nowadays our wilderness travel
PATHFINDING 43
is usually in regions where there are regular trails
that are soon learned and which serve then as base-
lines, or where mountains, streams, lakes, and other
physical features are so prominent that it is easy to
learn the lay of the land.
In thick woods, canebr^^.kes, swamps, big thickets,
and other places where the course is necessarily very
tortuous, a compass is of little use while one is on
the march. Wherever the traveler can get an out-
look he fixes on some landmark in advance, notes
how the sun strikes him when facing the mark, and
thenceforth averages up his windings as well as he
can. The compass is only of service when he can
no longer see the sun, and is in doubt as to the
direction he is traveling in.
In the wilderness one never knows when he may
want to retrace his steps. Hence, when passing
anything that has particularly caught his eye, let him
turn and see how it looks from the other side.
—
Rough Travel. The way to find game, or to
get the best of anything else that the forest hides, is
not to follow well-beaten paths. One must often
make his own trails, and go where the going is
hardest. As he travels through the unbroken woods
he may come, now and then, to a glade where the
trees do not crowd each other, where the under-
growth is sparse, and the Yitw so unobstructed that
he can see to shoot for a hundred yards in any direc-
tion such spots may be about as common, relatively,
;
as are safe anchorages and deep-water harbors along

the coast. But part of the time, a wanderer in the
forest primeval must pick a way for his feet over
uneven ground that is covered with stubs, loose
stones, slippery roots, crooked saplings, mixed down-
wood, and tough, thorny vines. He is forever busy
seeking openings, parting bushes, brushing away cob-
webs, fending of¥ springy branches, crawling over or
under fallen trees, working around impenetrable
tangles, or trying to find a foot-log or a ford. There
is no such thing as a short-cut. It is bevond the
44 CAMl'ING AND WOODCRAFT
power of man to steer a straight course, or to keep
up a uniform cadence of his steps.
Unless the traveler knows his ground there is no
telling when he may come to a "windfall" where
several acres of big timber have been overthrown by
a hurricane and the great trees lie piled across each
other in an awkward snarl. Or maybe there isan
alder or spruce thicket or a cedar swamp in the way,
or a canebrake or a cypress slough, or a laurel or
rhododendron "slick,"wherein a man will soon ex-
haust his strength to no purpose. If he be so unwise
as to try to force a passage.
Abrule or burnt-wood is a nasty place to pass
through. Every foot of ground that Is not covered
by charred snags, or fallen trunks and limbs, bristles
with a new growth of fireweed, blackberry and rasp-
berry briers, young red cherries, white birches, pop-
lars, quaking aspens, scrub oaks, or gray pines.
Where the fire has occurred on one of those barren
ridges that was covered with dwarfish oaks (post,
black, or blackjack), the sharp, fire-hardened stubs
of limbs protrude, like bayonets, at the height of
one's face,menacing his eyes.
An old "lumber works," where the trees have
been chopped out, leaving nothing but stumps, tree-
tops, and other debris, grows up with the same rank
tenants as a burnt-wood, and is as mean to flounder
through. As a general rule, a mile and a half an
hour of actual progress is "making good time" in
the woods.
Crossing Streams. — If you have to cross a deep,
rocky ravine or dangerous mountain stream by pass-
ing over a high foot-log or fallen tree, then, If the
log Is tilted at an uncomfortable angle, or If its sur-
face is wet, or icy, or treacherous with loose bark,
or If, for any reason, you fear dizziness or falntness,
don't be ashamed to get down and straddle the log,
and "coon It," hunching jôurself along with hands
and thighs. Let your companions laugh, if they
will. It is not nice to break a limb when you are
PATHFINDING 45
in a countr}'^ sorough that your comrades may have
to pack you out, by each, in turn, carrying you on
his own back and crawling wîth you.
Where there is no foot-log, a narrow stream may
be crossed by using a jumping-pole, or^ if it is too
deep for that, by a rope or vine swung from an over-
hanging tree and doubled back.
Before fording, if the weather is cold, take off
trousers and drawers and tie them to your pack, but
keep your shoes on, lest you slip on smooth rocks.
If the stream is swift, cut a stout pole, longer than
yourself, with which to sound ahead of jôu and to
brace yourself against the current by planting it
downstream at each step.
In country the shallowest part of a stream
flat
is usually where the near bank makes the longest,
sharpest point, and it runs diagonally toward a

projection of the opposite bank, either up or down-
stream. The widest part of a river generally is
the shallowest. The inside of a sharp bend is deep.
In swift-flowing streams look for fords above the
riflês.
Fording swift water easiest with a heavy pack

is
to help hold one down but sling it so it will slip

;
off if you stumble —otherwise it may drown you.

Several men in company can cross a stream too swift
for one at a time, if they cut a long pole and cross
abreast, holding the pole horizontally in front of
them with each man grasping it. The heaviest man
should be on the downstream side.
To avoid mud and quicksand, look for pebbles on
the bottom.
—
Use of Divides. Rivers are often spoken of a?
having been man's natural highways in the days
before roads. This was true only to a limited ex-
tent. A few great rivers such as the Hudson, the
Ohio, the Mississippi, and the Missouri, were high-
ways for down-stream travel, and smaller waterways
were, and still are, used in summer in the muskeg
country of the North, where land travel is imprac-
ticable until everything freezes up. But the general
rule of aboriginal travel was to keep away from
streams and follow the ridges between them. This
rule still holds good when a party travels afoot or
with pack-train in a country where there are no
Fig. 7. — Use of Divides
bridges. A glance at the accompanying diagram

(Fig. 7) will show why.
In this figure, AG represents a river, and CF the
main divide or summit of watershed separating it
from another river basin. assumed that a party

It is
afoot or with horses desires to advance from A to G.

Evidently, if they try to follow either bank of the
main stream, they will have many fords to make, not
PATHFINDING 47
only crossing tributaries here and there, but fording
or swimming the main stream itself, many times,
where cliffs, bogs, or impenetrable thickets make one
of the banks impassable.
If the region through which the river runs is
wide bottom-land, the mouths of its tributaries are
likely to be deep, or to run over fathomless mud as
dangerous as quicksand, and this will necessitate
long detours. The vegetation up to the very bank
of the river will be exceedingly rank, a wretched
tangle of bushes, vines, briers, and tall grass, and
fallen trees will be plentiful and large. At any
time a heavy rainstorm may send the river out of its
banks, and the party may find itself marooned where
it can neither go forward nor backward. On the
other hand, if the river runs through a mountainous
country, it is probable that the travelers will come
to a canon that will compel them to retreat. In any
case, the party will never have an outlook; it will
never know what lies beyond the next bend of th^
river.
A comparatively easy way around all of these
difficulties is shown by the dotted line ABDEG.
Leaving the river by a ridge that leads to the main
divide, and following the crest to a similar abutting
ridge that runs down to the valley at the objective
point, there will be no fords to make, the footing
will be much better because vegetation is thinner on
the more sterile, wind-swept heights, the fallen trees

will be smaller, there will be no mud or quicksand
or miry bogs, and every here and there a coign of
vantage will be climbed from which a far outlook
can be had over the surrounding country.
The chief precaution to be observed in trying to
follow a divide where there is no trail, or where
there are many intersecting trails, Is not to stray off
on some abutting ridge. Thus, at the points B and
D there may be in each case a gap between knolls or
peaks, and the lead to the left might easily be mis-
taken for the main divide. If the X)arty were enticed
along either of these leads, on account of its trending
in the desired direction, it would soon find itself in
a cul de sac.
Celestial Guides. —
The sun by day and the
stars by night are Nature's chief guides for the
traveler. So long as the sun is visible anyone can
tell, in a general way, the direction in which he is
going. To find the sun on a cloudy day: hold a

knife-blade or other thin, flat article perpendicularly
on the thumb-nail, watch-case, or any glossy surface,
and slowly twirl it around. It will cast a faint
shadow, unless the day is very dark. Choose an
open spot in the woods for this, rather than under
the trees, and don't try it near noon, when little
shadow would be cast anyway.
How to find the North Star is shown at the end
of Chapter V,
CHAPTER IV
NATURE'S GUIDE-POSTS
—
Sameness of the Forest. All dense woods
look much alike. Trees of most species grow very
tall in a forest that has never been cut over, their
trunks being commonly straight and slender, with no
branches within, say, forty feet of the ground. This
is because they cannot live without sunlight for their
leaves, and they can only reach sunlight by growing

tall like their neighbors that crowd around them.
As the young tree shoots upward, its lower limbs
atrophy and drop off. To some extent the character-
istic markings of the trunk that distinguish the differ-
ent species when they grow in the open, and to a
greater extent their characteristic habits of branch-
ing, are neutralized when they grow in dense forest.
Consequently a man who can readily tell one. species
from another, in open country, by their bark and
branching habits, may be puzzled to distinguish them
in aboriginal forest. Moreover, the lichens and
mosses that cover the boles of trees, in the deep shade
of a primitive wood, give them a sameness of aspect,
so that there is some excuse for the novice who says
that **all trees look alike" to him.
The knowled2;e of trees that can be gained, first
from books and secondly from studies of trees them-
selves in city parks or in country wood-lots, must be
supplemented by considerable experience in the real
wilderness before one can say with confidence, by
merely glancing at the bark, "that is a soft maple,
and the other is a sugar-tree." And yet, I do not
tinow any study that, in the long run, would be
49
50 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT"
more serviceable to the amateur woodsman than to
get a good manual of American trees and then go
about identifying the species in his neighborhood.
Having gained some facility in this, then let him
turn to studying peculiarities of individual growth.
Such self-training, which can be carried out almost
anywhere, will make him observant of a thousand
and one little marks and characteristics that are
sign-boards and street-numbers in the wilds.
What —
to Notice. After a novice has had some
preliminary training of the kind I have indicated, so
that all things in the woods no longer look alike to
him, he will meet another difficulty. His memory
will be swamped! It is utterly impossible for any
man, whether he be red, white, black, or yellow, to
store up in his mind all the woodland marks and
signs that one can see in a mile's tramp, to say noth-
ing of the infinite diversity that he encounters in a
long journey. Now, here is just where a skilled
woodcraftsman has an enormous advantage over any
and all amateurs. He knows what is common, and
pays no attention to it he knows what is uncommon,
;
't catches his eye at once, and it interests him, so that
he need make no effort to remember the thing. This

disregard for the common elimmates at once three-
fourths, yes, nine-tenths, of the trees, plants,
rocks, etc., from his consideration; it relieves his
memory of just that much burden. He will pass a
hundred birch trees without a second glance, until
his eye is riveted by a curly birch. Why riveted?
Because curly birch is valuable. In the bottom
lands he will scarcely see a sour gum, or a hundred
of them but let him come across one such tree on
;
top of the ridge, and he will wonder how it chanced

to stray so far from home. And so on, through all
categories of woodland features. A woodsman
notices such things as infallibly, and with as little
conscious effort, as a woman notices the crumbs and
lint on her neighbor's carpet.
The Homing Instinct_(?) —^We hear much
NATGRE'S GUIDE-POSTS 51
about the "innate sense of direction," the "extra-

ordinary bump of locality," of savages and of certain
white woodcraftsmen. "A good woodsman," we are
told, "finds his way, just as an animal does, by a
certain kind of instinct." If by this is meant that
some men are born with a "gift," a sixth sense or
homing instinct comparable to that of a carrier
pigeon, I am more than sceptical. In the art of
wilderness travel, as in other things, some men are
more adept than others who have had equal advan-
tages, and a few possess almost uncanny powers,
amounting what we call genius. To my notion
to
this means more than that some individuals
little
are quicker to observe than others, reason more
surely from cause to effect, and keep their minds
more and I believe that this is far more due
alert;
to their taking unusual interest in their surroundings
than to any marked partiality of Mother Nature in
distributing her gifts. Instinct will work as well in
one place as in another, but human "sense of direc-
tion" will not.
This not saying that all men are born equal as
is
regards the faculty of orientation; some have a

fcnack ; but that knack is not an instinct It Is worth-
;
less until sharpened and trained by experience.

—
Let me illustrate. In the Great Smoky Moun-
tains, which separate part of North Carolina from
Tennessee, the "standers" in a bear drive are sta-
tioned along the main divide, or near It, at elevations
of from 4,000 to 6,000 feet. We
are out in all sorts
of weather. The chase may continue from dawn
Until midnight, the bear perhaps running ten or fif-
teen miles through the roughest of all this rough
country. At almost any time clouds may descend
upon us, or ascend from below, and the fog, as we
call it, is sometimes so thick that a man cannot see
thirty feet in any direction. It may lift in five
minutes, or It may continue for a day, two days,
three days —
there is no foretelling. It may be ac-
f-ompanied by drenching rain, or by a keen wind, or
52 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT-
may turn into a snowstorm so we cannot sit around
;
waiting on the chance of its rising.

Below the balsam zone (5,000 to 6,000 feet) the
leaves, in autumn and early winter, lie very thickly
upon the ground, so that a scurry of wind may at
any moment obliterate the trail for some distance.
When a cloud settles upon the mountain, a man
hurrying along to get into the valley before nightfall,
and over-confident, perhaps, of his bearings, may
easily miss the trail and find himself on the wrong
ridge —where? Once of¥ the trail, there are no
blazes to guide him, and the going gets worse and
worse until it becomes damnable. If one could
see out, he would not hesitate; but he cannot see a
tree two rods away.
In such case, it is of serious Import for a man to
decide, rather promptly, upon which particular ridge
he may have straggled for many of these ridges are
;
very thickety, some of them lead Into laurel "hells,"

and on others one's progress is impeded by cliffs.
To descend immediately into a creek valley would
be the worst thing he could do, for the headwaters
generally rise in almost impenetrable thickets of
laurel and rhododendron, and their beds are rough
and steep.
Now, what does a mountaineer do In such dilem-
ma? Trust to instinct? Not a bit of It. Our
strayed man might not be able to explain the process,
he probably would not even be conscious of the In-
finitude of details involved, he might lay it all to
"woods sense" and let you credit him with a mys-
terious "gift"; but this Is what he would do: first,
I
he would scan the trees and shrubs, closely observing
their prevailing habit of growth then he wôuld
;
examine the ground itself he would move about like

;
a dog scenting for a track; presently he would find

evidence, not single, but collective gathered from —
—
many sources which his memory and reasoning
powers would combine Into a theory of locality, and,
five times out of six, his theory would prove correct.
1
-NATURE'S GUIDE-POSTS 55
I have known a mountaineer, on a pitch-dark night,

to identify the ridge he was on by feeling the trees;
and there were no blazes on those trees, either.
Our mountaineers know the peculiarities and
variations of their home hunting-grounds most
thoroughly, so far as they relate to the hunter's and
herdsm?.n's arts, and from this intimate local knowl-
edge they have gained certain general signs of direc-
tion that are fairly reliable throughout all the main
ranges of the Southern Appalachians (mountains
densely covered with more varied forest growth
than any others in the world). So they have not
the least hesitation about traveling into unknown
parts for a week at a stretch, and without a compass,
even though they may get into fog so thick that, as
they quaintly say, **You could nigh stick your but-
cher-knife into It and hang up your shot-pouch.'*
But there Is no dog-like or pigeon-like instinct
about this. I can take one of these same men to
the city of Boston and get him thoroughly lost within
half a mile of his hotel. If he had the homing
instinct he could find his own way back on the city
Btreets but he has not the ghost of such endowment.
;
He Is bewildered by the maze of things new to him,

as a city man Is In the forest. His attention is
attracted to other things than signs of direction: sa
he goes astray.
—
Nature's Guide-Posts. ^There are twô ques-
tions that woodsmen will argue, I suppose, until
doomsday. Having given my views on one of them^
I may as well tackle the other, and then have done
with controversy. Are there any natural signs of
direction that will give a man his bearings when the
sky is obscured ? Every one has heard, for example,
that **moss growls thickest on the north side of a
tree," and nearlv every one has heard this as flatly
contradicted. The
general opinion seems to be that
such sl^ns are ''Important If true." The Indianr
and white frontiersmen of fiction never have any
difficulty in finding their way by noting where moss
grows on the trees; but when our novel-
thickest
reader goes into the woods, compass in hand, and
puts the thing to actual test, he probably will be
disgusted to find that, in densely shaded primeval
forest, there seems to be no regularity in the growth
of moss, one tree having a thick lajêr of it on the
north side, another on the east, another on the south,
and so on. He is then ready to declare that the old
saying is a "fake."
endeavor to show that there is more in this
I shall
matter than is generally credited. There are certain
signs of direction that are fairly constant in given
regions, so that by their help a native, or even a
stranger who
has good powers of observation, some
patience, and a fair knowledge of the life habits of
trees and plants, can steer his course without a com-
pass, and without help from sun or stars. But let
us clearly understand what is involved in this use
of nature's compass-marks.
No universal rule can be established from such
signs as the growth of moss on trees, the preponder-
ance of branches on one side of a tree, or the direc-
tion toward which the tips of tall conifers point.
Such things are modified by prevailing winds,
shadows and shelter of nearby mountains, depth or
sparseness of forest growth, and other local condi-
tions. Every^vhere exceptions will be found if ;
there were none, it would be child's play, not wood-

craft, to follow such signs.
No one sign is infallible. A botanist can tell the
north side of a steep from the south side by
hill
examining the plant growth: but no one plant of
itself will tell him the story. So a woodsman works
out his course by a system of averaging the signs
around him. It is this averaging that demands
genuine skill. It takes into account the prevailing
winds of the region, the lay of the land, the habits
of shade-loving and moisture-loving plants (and
Aiheir opposites), the tendency of certain plants to
ôint their leaves or their tips persistently in a car-
NATURE'S GUIDE-POSTS 55
tain direction, thegrowth of tree bark as influenced

by sun and shade, the nesting habits of certain ani-
mals, the morning and evening flight of birds, and
other natural phenomena, depending upon the
general character of the country traversed. More-
over, in studying any one sign, a nice discrimination
must be exercised. Let us glance at a few examples:
—
Moss ON Trees. First, as to the time-honored
subject of moss —
not confusing real moss with the
parasitic lichens that incrust rocks and trees. Moss
favors that part of a tree that holds the most mois-
ture; not necessarily the part that receives the most
moisture, but the part that retains it longest. Con-
sequently grows more abundantly on the upper
it
side of a leaning tree than on the under side, on

rough bark than on smooth bark, on top of project-
ing burls rather than on the lower side, and in the
forks of trees, and on their buttressed bases. These
factors are, of course, independent of the points of
the compass.
Does it follow, then, that exposure has nothing
to do with the growth of moss? Not at all. It
merely follows that a competent woodcraftsman,
seeking a sign of direction from the moss on trees,
would ignore leaning trees, uncommonly rough
bark, bossy knots, forks of limbs, and the bases of
tree trunks, just as he would give no heed to the
growth on prostrate logs. He would single out for
examination the straight shafted old trees of rather
smooth bark, knowing that on them there would be
fairly even lodgment for moisture all around, and
that the wet would evaporate least from the north
and northeast sides of the tree, as a general rule,
and, consequently, that on those sides the moss would
preponderate. He would expect to find such differ-
ence more pronoun :ed on the edge of thick forests
than in their densely shaded interior. He would
give special heed to the evidence of trees that were
isolated enough to get direct sunlight throughout a
good portion of the day, while those that were in
the shade of cliffs or steep mountains so that they
could only catch the sunbeams in the morning or the
afternoon would be ruled out of court.
You see how much more swiftly and surely such
a man would reach a decision than could one who
tried to take into account all kinds and conditions
of trees, regardless of surroundings, and how much
less he would have to puzzle over contradictory
evidence. Among a hundred trees he might only
examine ten, but those ten would be more trust-
worthy for his purpose than their ninety neighbors.
—
This is woodcraft the genuine article as dis- —
tinguished from the mysterious and infallible "sixth
sense" of direction that, I think, exists nowhere out-
side of Leatherstocking Tales.
Tips of Conifers. —A
rule that holds good in the
main, wherever have had a chance to study it, is
I
that the feathery tip, the topmost little branch, of a

towering pine or hemlock, points toward the rising
sun, that is to say, a little south of east. There are
exceptions, of course, but I have generally found this
to be the case in three-fourths of the trees examined,
leaving out of consideration those growing in deep,
narrow valleys, or on wind-swept crests. I do not
know whether it is characteristic of all conifers,
throughout their ranges; but I commend this pecu-
liar phenomenon to travelers, for observation.
Bark and Annual Rings. —The bark of old
trees is generally thicker on the north and northeast
sides than on the other sides. A more reliable indi-
cator of direction, though one that a traveler seldom
has opportunity to test, is the thickness of annual
rings of wood growth, which is more pronounced on
the north than on the south side of a tree. This
has been noted in widely separated parts of the earth,
and has been known for many centuries. More
than four hundred years ago it was mentioned by
Leonardo da Vinci, that universal genius who was
scarcely less celebrated as an engineer and scientist
tb-^n as ?n artist and litterateur. ''The rings of
wrote Leonardo, ''show how many years they

trees,"
have and their greater or smaller size shows
lived,
whether the years were damper or drier. They also
show the direction in which they were turned, be-
cause they are larger on the north side than on the
south, and for this reason the center of the tree is
nearer the bark on the south than on the north side."
In 1893 this matter was put to a definite test by the
New York State Forest Commission, which directed
Its examine the regularity of the north-
foresters to
ward thickening of annual rings in the black spruce
of the Adirondacks. The foresters examined 700
trees, of varying exposure, noting in each case the
compass-point toward which the longest radius of
wood growth pointed. The result was:
North 471 South 1

Northeast 81 Southeast
East 106 West 27
•
Southwest 6
Total north and east. 658 Northwest 8
94%
Total south and west. 42
6%
These figures deserve more than a passing glance.
Compass-Plants. — Some plants show a decided

polarity in their habit of growth. The compass-
plant or rosin-weed {Silphium laciniatiun) that once
abounded on the prairies of the Mississippi valley,
from Minnesota Texas, is a conspicuous example.
to
It is a tall plant with long, stiff leaves, that do not
grow horizontally but with their edges perpendicu-
lar. Its natural habitat is the open, shadeless
prairie. If plants are examined that grow thus in
the open, especially those in the little swales where
they are not fully exposed to fierce winds, it will be
found that the great majority of them present their
radical leaves north and south. The large flower
heads on short, thick stems point, like the hemlock's
"finger," to the eastward, and show no such ten-
dency to follow the sun toward the west as Is charac-
teristic of many plants. I have often used the
compass-plant as a guide, and never was led astray
by it; in fact, the old settlers on the prairies, if they
chanced to get lost on a dark night, would get their
bearings by feeling the leaves of the compass-plant.
The closely related prairie dock {Silphium tere-
binthinaceum) and that troublesome weed known
as prickly lettuce {Lactuca scariola), show a similar
polarity. This characteristic is lost if the plants are
grown where they receive much shade. Of course,
terrestrial magnetism has nothing to do with the
polarity of plants; it is the sunlight, received on the
two sides of the leaves alternately, that determines
their position.
But what think you of plant roots that persistently
grow north and south ? The woodsmen of the Great
Smoky Mountains declare that there is a *'north-and-
south plant," as they call it, with two long roots
that grow respectively north and south. Doctor
Davis of Ware's Valley, on the Tennessee side
described it to me "It resembles wild
as follows:
verbena, grows thigh-high, rare plant, and
is a
generally Is found in hollows on the south side of
mountains. In rocky neighborhoods, near trickling
streams. Its leaf is serrated, i^ by i Inch, or
larger,with purple heart, yellow edges, and the rest
a bright red. Its roots usually do grow north and
south. The plant is one of the most valuable medi-
cinally that I know of, particularly for syphilitic

affections. I do not know it by any other name
than the native one of North-and-South. I gather
it when I can find it, and use it in my practice."
Many others have given me similar reports. I do

not know the plant; have never hunted systematic-
ally for It.
Lost Arts. — I am of the opinion that there are

natural compass-signs in the forest, and on the plain,
that we are Ignorant of, but that were well known
to savages In a state of nature. Such men, depend-
ent from childhood upon close observation of their

environment; but observation urged b}^ entirely dif-
ferent motives from those of our naturalists, and
directed toward different ends, would inevitably ac-
quire a wôodland lore different from ours, but quite
as thorough in its own way. That they should de-
velop keen perceptive faculties is no more remarkable
than that a carpenter should hit a nail instead of
the thumb that steadies it. That they should notice
and study signs that no modern hunter or scientist
Môuld bother his head about is a matter of course.
Unquestionably we have lost many arts of wildcraft
that were daily practised by our ancestors of the
stone age, just as we have lost their acquaintance
with the habits of animals now extinct. Probably
no white man of the future will ever equal Jim
Bridger as a trailer; and it is but natural to suppose
that Bridger himself had superiors among the
savages from whom he learned his craft. It is a
superficial judgment to rate as an old-wives' tale
every story of exploits in the past that we cannot at
present duplicate. However, we need not go to
novelists to find out how such things were done.
There is much pleasure to be gained in seeking to
recover some of the lost arts of a primitive age and,
;
I believe, some profit as well.

But facts such as Ihave cited regarding the com-
pass-signs of the woodsare of practical value only
to men who spend much of their time in the forest,
lely wholly on themselves as guides, seldom or never
use instruments, and so have their perceptive facili-
ties sharpened bevond any keenness that average
sportsmen are likely to acquire. Carry a compass.
CHAPTER V
BLAZES— SURVEY LINES— USE OF THE
COMPASS
The chief difficulty in forest travel, especially in
flat lands that are heavily timbered, is the lack of
natural outlooks from which one could get a view
of distant landmarks. Although there are plenty of
marks in the woods themselves by w^hich a trained
woodsman can follow a route that he traversed not
long before, j^t these signs are forever changing,
vanishing, being superseded by others. Not only do
new growths spring up, but old ones are swept away,
sometimes suddenly, as by flood or fire. Hence,
when men have once picked out a course through the
woods that they intend to follow again, they leave
permanent marks along the way for future guidance.
The most conspicuous and durable waymarks that
can easily be made are blazes on the trees. It is of
no little consequence to a traveler in the wilds that
he should know something about blazes and the
special uses made of them in the backwoods.
Blazes. — Ona thin-barked tree, a blaze is made
by a single downward stroke, the axe being held
almost parallel with the trunk; but if the bark is
thick, an upward and a downward clip must be
made, perhaps several of them, because, in any case,
the object usually is to expose a good-sized spot of
the whitish sapwood of the tree, which, set in the
dark framework of the outer bark, is a staring mark
in the woods, sure to attract attention, at least while
fresh. Outside of white birch forests, white is the
most conspicuous color in the woods, until snow falls.
60
USE OF THE COMPASS bi
If a blaze is made merely on the outer bark, it will

not show so plainly by contrast. This kind of blaze,
however, may be preferred for some purposes; for
example, by a trapper who does not want to call
everybody's attention to where his traps are set. A
bark-blaze has the peculiarity that it lasts unaltered,
to long as the bark itself endures, preserving its
Original outlines and distinctness, no matter how
tnuch the tree may grow. But if a wound, however
slight, be made through the bark into the sapwood
of the tree, so that the sap, which is the tree's blood,
exudes, a healing process will at once set in, and the
injury, in time, will be covered over. So, as soon
as a blaze is made that exposes the wood, the tree
begins at once to cover up its scar. This is a slow
process. First the edges of the cut will widen, then
a sort of lip of smooth new inner bark will form,
and this will gradually spread inward over the gash.
Once this new skin has formed, the wound will be
covered by new annual lajêrs of wood, as well as t)y
new outer bark. Years after the blaze was made,
nothing will show on the surface but a slight scar,
a sign that takes practised eyes to detect and read.
A blaze always remains at its original height above
the ground, and, where two or more spots have been
cut in the same tree, they will always stand at the
same distance apart. This is because a tree increases
its height and girth only by building on top of the
previous growth, not by stretching it.

—
Age of Blazes. The age of a hack or blaze in
a marked tree is determined by chopping out a billet
of the wood containing the mark and counting the
annular rings of growth from bottom of scar out-
ward, allowing one year for each ring. In counting
annular growth, some begin with the first soft lamina
(porous part of year's growth), jumping the first
hard layer, to the second lamina, and so on. It is
more accurate to count the hard strata, for the fol-
lowing reasons: Soft laminae are formed in the
spring, when the sap is risine. If a hack is made
62 CAMPINC5 AND WOODCRAFl
at that time it may not show until a hard ring forma
over it the next fall or winter, when the sap is down.
If the season has been very dry, there may be two
runs of sap, hence a double soft ring that year. A
mark made in wood when the sap is down (after
the fall of leaves) can have age determined very
its
positively, but if made when the fresh sap is up it

may be hard to say whether the mark goes through
that year's growth or only to it.
On some kinds of trees, if a blaze goes through
to the sap wood, the scar on the bark is hard to
identify as an ax mark, because the wood, in grow-
ing, spreads it.
The age of an axe mark is hard to determine in
birch, and impossible in tupelo or winged elm,
owing to irregularity of fiber.
A blaze on a frozen tree makes a bad wound.
A mark on the sheltered side of a tree does not
look nearly so old as one opposite, because moisture
accumulated makes the bark rot off from the weather
side.
Blazes on the bark of chestnut, tulip poplar,
young white oak, many locusts, and some other
trees, are not apt to be permanent because these trees
shed their bark more or less and do not retain marks
so well as beech, black birch, Spanish oak, mountain
oak, and other close-barked trees. Bark that scales
does not hold moss.
Following a Line. —Most old woods trails are
blazed on only one side of the tree, the side facing
the trail, so as to be seen from either direction.
Spotted trails (opposite sides blazed as previously
described) are seldom made by professional woods-
men except where there is unusual danger of losing
the way.
An old line of blazes on spruce or pine trees is
much easier to follow than if made on non-resinous
trees, because the resin deposited by the oozing sap
leaves a very noticeable and durable mark. Simi-
iarlv, when an inscription has been penciled or
USE OF THE COMPASS 63
painted on a fresh blaze on a pine tree, the sap

glazes over the mark and makes it almost imperish-
able.
In searching out a line of blazes, one should keep
his eyes glancing horizontally along a plane about
breast-high, because that is the height at which sur-
veyors leave their marks, and others usually follow
the custom, unless the line has been spotted by a man
on horseback, or from a boat during time of overflow.
When a blazed line turns abruptly, so that 9^
person following might otherwise overrun it, a long
slash is made on that side of the tree which faces the
new direction.
It is difficult to follow a line of blazes when snow
is falling, because the wind drives the damp flakes
against the tree, where they adhere, and must be
brushed away to find the blaze.
Now, it is often of much consequence to a traveler
to remember such facts as these. For example, there
is nothing more common in the annals of misadven-
ture than for a novice to stray off on a deer trail, or,

in southern forests, on a cattle trail, which, although
seductively plain at first, leads nowhere in particular
and soon dwindles to nothing. When undecided,

look for blazes along the path. In heavily timbered
regions, such as we are now considering, any trail
that is, or ever has been, used as a highway by white
men is likely to have been blazed.
Again, it is often of moment to determine, when
one strikes a strange trail, what its nature is for —
—
what purpose it was made and thus be able to
figure out whether it is likely to lead directly to a
settlement or camp. This ought not to be very
difficult when one knows what classes of men have
preceded him in this particular forest. Generally
speaking, a line spotted in a wide forest that as yet
has no farmers' clearings is likely to have been made
by either (i) a trapper, (2) a lumberman or timber-
looker, or (3) a surveyor.
A Trapper's Line usually leads from one stream
or lake to another. The blazes are likely to ba
inconspicuous. The line probably meanders a good
deal, but not to escape ordinary obstacles, not dis-
daining a steep climb for a short-cut. Along its
course, at intervals of eight or ten miles, there are
probably rude shanties containing supplies or the
ruins of such shacks, if the line is no longer used.
Such a line does not lead to any settlement, and can
seldom be of any use to a wayfarer.
A —
Lumberman's Line. Timber-lookers may or
may not leave evidence of their wanderings more —
likely not, for, like other seekers after bonanzas, they
may have excellent reasons for not doing so. At
most, they would merely mark the easiest route for
a prospective road from the river to some "bunch"
of timber. Where logging operations have already
begun, then, wherever a stump stands it will not be
hard to determine the direction in which the logs
were twitched to the nearby "lizard road," where
they were loaded on lizards (forks of timber used
as sleds), or on wagons, and dragged to the river or
saw-mill. (I am assuming primitive operations in a
remote wilderness.) The lizard road was blazed
when first laid out. Logs are never dragged uphill
if that can be avoided ; consequently the trend of
the road will be downhill, or on a level. The lizard
road will show ruts, trees barked along the way by
whiffle-trees, and other characteristic marks. Wher-
ever there is a bridge or a corduroyed road the tim-
bers will be worn most on the side opposite the camp,
because heavy loads were drawn toward camp, not
away from it. Once the old lumber-camp site is
reached, even though It be long deserted, the signs
of an old "tote road" can be discerned, leading to-
ward a settlement from which supplies were trans-
ported.
ASurveyor's Line is absolutely straight (with
exception noted below). When it reaches an im-
passable obstacle, such as a swamp or a cliff, an
offset is made to right or left; but this offset Is also
a straight line, at right angles, of course, to the main

one, the latter being continued in the original direc-
tion as soon as the obstacle has been passed. For
this, and other reasons that presently will appear,
a surveyor's line can never be mistaken for any other.
Surveyors are careful to space their marks more
uniformly than hunters and trappers and loggers.
They cut rather square into the tree, at right angles,
so that the weather may not wear away the marks
nor the tree become diseased and so obliterate them.
—
Old Surveys. The old states of the East and
South were surveyed before there were any Govern-
ment regulations for such work, and had methods
of their own for marking lines and corners, varying
from place co place. In the rougher regions such
work was likely to be slipshod. Old-time surveyors
in the mountains often ran lines that wêre winding,
because they had no flagmen to keep the line straight.
It was difficult to keep sight marks. Measurements
often were inaccurate. The chain was likely to go
too low up a ridge and too high in crossing hollows.
Mere surface surveying was practised over logs,
rocks, etc. Chains were intentionally made over-
length to allow for this.
The practice of measuring by half-chains in rough
country led to many errors of counting, by dropping
a link, and so on. Few of the old surveyors were
careful about variations of the compass. In fact,
I have known backwoods surveyors who were ignor-
ant of the change in magnetic meridian.
—
Modern Surveys. Throughout most parts of
the West, the method of numbering, subdividing,
and marking township sections is that adopted by
the public land surveys, a brief description of which
isgiven belovv^ If one understands the merest rudi-
ments of public surveying, and has a township map
of the locality, then, whenever he runs across a sec-
tion line, he can soon tell exactly where he is, and
what is the most direct route to any other point in
ihe neighborhood.
66 :amping and woodcraft
It is common wherever a regular trail
practice,
crosses one of these lines, to square or face on four
sides a tree or two standing close by, drawing the
traveler's attention to the line. These survey lines
may be of practical use to him in various ways. By
them he can determine exactly the position of his
camp with reference to the surrounding country.
He can locate any point that he desires to visit or
such as a cache, a mineral deposit, a piece
revisit,
of land that he may wish to purchase, and so on.
If he gets lost, it is
somewhere within half

6
a mile, or less, of a sur-
vey which will take
line,
him to a marked corner
from which he can learn
his position.
Township and Sec-
tion Lines. —
The pub-
lic lands of the United
Stales are divided into
townships, usually of six
Pig. 8.-Plan for Numbering miles square (23,040
Sections of a Township acres), as nearly as_ con-
vergence of meridians
allows. A township is sub-divided into thirty-six
sections, each one mile square, as nearly as may be,
which, as a general rule, are numbered as shown in
Fig. 8, and are legally subdivided as indicated in
Fig. 9.
Starting from an established corner, all trees that
stand directly on the line of survey have two chops
or notches cut on each side of them, without any
other marks whatever. These are called "sight
trees*' or "line trees" (sometimes "fore and aft
trees"). Since there may not be enough trees
actually intercepting the line of sight to make such
a line conspicuous, a sufficient number of other treer.
standing within not more than two rods of the line,
tJSE OF THE COMPASS 67
on it, are blazed on two sides diagon-
either side of
ally,or quartering toward the line, or coinciding in
direction with the line where the trees stand very
near it. Blazes are not omitted where trees two
inches or more in diameter are found on or near
the line.
Where on or near the line
trees are scarce, bushes
are bent at right angles therewith, and receive a blow
with the axe at the usual height of blazes from the
80A.
---315- •
Tf.E.'4
^^ t&oA
s.w:!i I
** "" "" *" "^

"*"
J"
TowrvsHvp
, T CSctdhT
Fig. 9 — Subdivision of Sections
ground, sufficient to leave them in a bent position,

but not to prevent growth.
When obstructed by swamps, lakes,
the course is
or other impassable objects, the line is prolonged

across by taking the necessary right angle offsets, or
by traverse, etc., until the line is regained on the
opposite side. At the intersection of lines on both
margins, a post is set for a witness point, and two
trees on opposite sides of the line are here markecJ
:

with a blaze and notch facing the post; but on the
margins of navigable rivers or lakes the trees are
marked with the number of the fractional section,
township, and range. Arabic figures are used ex-
clusively.
Corner Marks. —The following corners are
marked
(i) For township boundaries, at intervals of
every six miles.
(2) For section boundaries, at intervals of every
mile.
(3) For quarter-section boundaries, at intervals of
one-half mile (with exceptions).
(4) Meander corners, wherever lines intersect
banks of rivers, etc., directed to be meandered.
Witness corners bear the same marks as those of
true corners, plus the letters W. C.
Four different modes of perpetuating corners are
employed, in the following order of choice:
( 1 ) Corner trees, when a tree not less than five
inches in diameter stands immediately in place.
(2) Stone corners, where procurable. These
must be at least 14 inches long. Stones 14 to 18
inches long are set two-thirds and larger ones three-
fourths of their length in the ground.
(3) Posts and witnesses. The latter are trees
adjacent, in opposite directions, each with a smooth
blaze facing the corner, with a notch at the lower
end, and with the number of township, range, and
section; below this, near the ground, on a smooth
blaze are marked the letters B. T. ("bearing tree").
Blazes may be omitted from smooth-barked trees.
Where there are no trees, witness pits are dug, two
feet square, and at least one foot deep.
(4) Posts and mounds. A
mound is erected
around the corner post, and a marked stone, or some
charcoal, or a charred stake, is deposited a foot below
the surface on the side toward which the line runs.
—
Township Corner Post. This projects two feet
above the ground, the projecting part being squared.
When the corner Is common to four townships, the

post is set cornerwise to the lines, and on each flat-
tened side is marked the number of the township,

i S.; R. 2 W.; S. 36.
range, and section, thus: T.
This example reading "Township i South, Range
2 West, Section 36." Six notches are cut on each of
the four edges.
If the post is on a closing corner, where the line
does not continue straight ahead, but is offset to
allow for convergence of meridians, this closing
corner being common to two townships south of the
base line, on each of the east,
six notches are cut
south, and west sides, but none on the north, and
C. C. ("closing corner") is cut on the surface.
The position of all township corner posts is wit-
nessed by four "bearing trees," or pits, or stones.

Bearing trees are marked like the post; stones are
merely notched.
Section Corners. —
^When the corner is common to
four sections, the post is set cornerwise to the lines,
the numbers of sections being marked on the surfaces
facing them, and on the northeast face the number
of township and range is inscribed. All mile-posts
on township lines have as many notches on the two
corresponding edges as they are miles distant from
the respective township corners. Section posts in
the interior of a township have as many notches on
the south and east edges as they are miles from the
south and east boundaries of the township, but none
on the north and west edges. All section posts are
"witnessed" as above. Section corner stones are
merely notched.
Quarter-section Corners. ^These— are merely
marked ^4 ^nd "witnessed."
Red chalk is used to make marks more con-
spicuous.
Use of the Compass. — In Volume (pp. 168-
I
169) some advice was given as to selecting a com-
pass. Let me repeat that it should be of hunting
case pattern, not only because an open faced one
is but because a cover helps to exclude
easily broken,
dust and moisture. The least moisture under the
glass will cause the needle to stick (if dampness gets
inside anyway, dry the compass by a gentle heat: too
much heat will destroy the magnetism). And there
is another reason: the friction of one's pocket on the
glass of a compass may magnetize it and attract the

needle (touching the glass with a wet finger will
remedy this).
You mayhave a pocket compass of surveyor's pat-
tern, such as the common military compass in a
square wooden box, used in our army. Observe
that on a surveyor's compass the E and W
marks
are transposed, and don't let this fool you in the
field.
In using a compass look out for local attraction.
Put your gun or axe aside; a knife, or belt buckle,
or other piece of metal may deflect the needle. If
there is anything in your equipment that might do
this, test the instrument first on the ground a pace
away, and then in your hand. The compass should

not be kept near iron, even when not in use, as the
needle is likely to be demagnetized.
A compass needle may be demagnetized when
traveling in an electric car if carried in a valise or
knapsack and set down on the floor over a powerful
motor, if the needle is clamped, as it should be when
not in use. To strengthen the magnetism of a com-
pass needle, unclamp it and lay the instrument near
a motor or generator or strong magnet; then, when
it has stopped quivering, clamp it again and leave
it under the influence of the magnetic current for
a short time.
A compass may become bewitched by a body of
ore that you may be passing over, but such ex-
periences are rare. If you suspect something of the
sort,carry the instrument away, it need not be far,
and test again. You are far more likely to be be-
witched yourself.
The Compass in Camp. — No compass can tell
you which way camp lies when you are lost. So

the first and best place to use it is in camp, before
you go anywhere. If there are landmarks visible
from camp, take their bearings, and locate them on
a sheet of paper or in your notebook. Then, if you
are in a flat country, run a base-line as described in
Chapter III. If in a hilly region, climb the nearest
height, and from it make a sketch map of the sur-
rounding country, with streams and prominent land-
marks noted and their bearings shown. Carry that
map always with you, and add to it as you learn the
country. No matter how rude it may be, it is
likely to come in mighty handy.
An experienced woodsman may photograph the
landscape op his brain, but not one city man in a
hundred car do so with certainty that it will not
have blurred or faded away when he gets bewil-
dered. So don't let any false modesty keep you
from using j'ôur pencil: the man who laughs at an
amateur (or anybody else) for doing so is most
likely a Reub who never has been a hundred miles
from his own front door.
Keeping a Course. —^When traveling in a region
where there are plenty of outlooks, the weather be-
ing clear, the sun and visible landmarks are suffi-
cient guides. When you do use a compass on the
march, and the country is not too difficult, it will
be enough to hold the instrument in one hand, and,
without waiting for the needle to stop swinging,
note the point midway of the limits of its motion
and take that for north, unless the magnetic decli-
nation is considerable (see below).
In level, heavily timbered country, one must take
greater pains if he wants to reach a definite point.
Lay the compass on the ground, or on any higher
object that will hold it level. Or, if both hands arcj
free, hold it in both of them at half-arm's length,
with elbows resting on your sides, so as to bring the
Instrument straight in front of the center of your
bodv. Then face some tall tree or other conspicu-
;

ous feature of the landscape in direct line with youi
objective and as far off as you can see. Check the
vibration of the needle by quickly tipping the com-
pass until the end of the needle touches the glass,
and repeat until needle stops quivering. Now
level
the box and take the bearing of your landmark.
Walk to it, and take a sight on something else in
the same line.
Where you cannot see out to take bearings in this
way, consult the compass every two or three min-
utes; for it is the easiest thing in the world to get
©ff a true course at such times, and a few degrees'
swerve, if not soon detected, will carry you far
astray.
When some obstacle obliges you to make a de-
tour, sight some landmark ahead, if you can, before
you go around. If there be none visible, then esti-
mate your winding with great care, and get back
in line again as soon as you can. It is rarely the
case that one can travel any distance in the wilder-
ness without swerving very often from a true course
so the art of averaging windings should be practiced
until one becomes adept.
When following a stream, note how many tribu-
taries you
cross. When following a divide, note
how many abutting ridges you pass on each side.
You will need that knowledge when you return, and
it must be exact.
—
Magnetic Variation. The north end of a
compass needle does not point to the true north, ex-
cept in certain places as noted below. It points to
the mannetic pole, which lies far south of the north
pole and about seven degrees west of the meridian
of 90°W.
The places where a compass does point to the
geoe^raphic north are those situated alons; what is
called the "agonic line," or "zero curve," or "line

of no variation." This is not a straight line from
north to south like a meridian on the map, but has
many waves and loops, and runs in the main easterly
of south. At present the agonic line runs from
Mackinac Lake Michigan, loops west and
Island, in
then diagonally through eastern Michigan to central
Ohio, makes a big loop north toward Lake Erie and
back, south to the Ohio River, makes two big loops
east and west in eastern Kentucky, runs south
through western Virginia, loops west in eastern
Tennessee and then far back east, goes down through
western North Carolina, loops east again, and then
runs diagonally down through Georgia and out into
the Atlantic. This line is not stationary, but has
a slow movement westward called the ''annual
change." Nobody knows the cause of these vagaries:
magnetic variation is a mystery as yet unsolved.
Now note this: at all places east of the agonic line
the north end of a compass needle points to the west
of true north (more and more as the distance in-
creases), and everywhere west of this line it points
easterly.
For instance, at New YorkCity the compass now
points io°W; Me., 20°W; at Lincoln,
at Eastport,
Neb., io°E; at Helena, Mont., 20°E. This
"declination" or "variation of the compass" must be
allowed tor when running a true course, or when
plotting one by map.
A line passing through all places that show the
same compass variation is called a "line of equal
magnetic variation." Such lines do not by any means
run straight like meridians, but are wavy and looped
and run off at strange angles, like the agonic line,
though none of them correspond to its meanders;
and they, too, shift slowly westward from year to
year.
Now Suppose you
for the practical application.
are on the line of magnetic variation that runs
through Ogden, Utah, where the declination Is
i8E°. To find true north, you set your compass
so that the needle points i8°E, as In Fig. 10. Then
the N mark on the dial points due north.
To lay out a course by map spread the sheet out
;
flat and lay the compass on it with N-S line of dial
exactly parallel with N-S line on map. Then re-
volve map until needle shovi^s proper number of
degrees allowance for local variation, if any. All
meridians on the map will then be parallel with the
lines they represent on the ground. Now you can
take the bearings of your objective, and if the instru-
ment has a movable course arrow (see Vol. I., p.
169) set it accordingly.
The following table of declinations, prepared by
the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, is copied from
the World Almanac of 19 16. By adding or sub-
tracting, as the case may be, the "annual change"
multiplied by the number
of years after 19 16, you
will get a close approximation to the variation for
a future date, although the annual change is not
constant.
Fig. 10. —Compass Variation

.
. . ...
.. 4
11
1 . . ,
..
..
. . .
TJSE OF THE COMPASS 75
MAGNETIC DECLINATIONS
Or Variations of Compass for January, 1916 — With the
Annual Change between 1910 and 1915 for the
Principal Places in the United States
STATE
8t«Uon. ^5 OB
THRRI- Station.
""a TOBy. a
>a a
<
Montgomery.. 2 61 E 4-1 Mo. JeOerson City. 45 E 4-1

Mobile 4 45E 1 + St. Louis ....;, 07 E
Hunisvllle
,
3 69 E Kansas City.., 24 E 4-2
Sitka 30 25 E + 2 Mon . . Helena 16 E 4-3
Kodlak 24 OOE —2 Neb. , Llocola OOE
51 E fi
.
Michael' .. 21 12E —4 Ocnaha

St.
Dutch Harbor.. 16 40 E —
—5
Nevada, Carson City . .
44 E
44 E n
Klaka 7 12 E Eureka
IIW 4-6
Prescott 14 45 E +3 N. e... Concord
04 W 4-5
Yuma 14 51 £ +4 N. J .
Trenton
. .
29 E 4-3
Nogalea 13 34 E +4 N. Mex. Santa Fe
Little Rock 7 00 E +2 N. Y... Albany nw
oow
4-6
4-5
Sacramento.. 17 . 24 E +3 New York ,10
Saa Fraaclsco 18 09E +3 Ithaca 2 16W 4-5
Lcs Angeles.. 15
.
65 E +3 Buffalo 5 57 W 4-4
San Diego ..... 15
. .
26 E N. C... Raleigh 2 66W f3

Denver 14 45 E WHmlnglon... .
f
43W 4-3
Hartford 11 44 W II N. Dak, Bismarck J*
11 E 4-2
35 E 4-1
New Haven.. 11 13W +6 Pembina »JI 28 W 4-3
.
Dover 7 42W +5 Ohio... Columbus '
S8W 4-3
Cleveland 3
Waablngtoa.. . . 5 60W +4 Cincinnati.. 43 E —2
Tallahassee. ... 2 20 E Okla... Atoka 8 4S£ 4-2
Jacksonville ... 58E — 1 Guthrie. .. .
10
23
02 E 4-3
30 E 4-3
Key West 2 30 E Oregoa. Portland ...
Atlanta •
1 33 E 1 Pa HarrUburg. .
7 28 W 4-6
Savannah 19 E —2 Phtladelphift. 8 37W 1-5
BoU6 19 43 E +3 Allegheny. . - 4 4iW i.4
Springfield 4 18 E E. I.... Providence. . 13 15W 4-6
Chicago
. . .
3 35 E —
— 1 S. C... Columbia. . .
33W -1-2
13W 4-2
Indianapolis. 69 E Charleston.. 1
Fort Wayne. 13W +2 S, Dak. Pierre 13 07 E -1-2
Dea Molnea.. 8 03 E + 1 ânkton .... li 36 E 4-2

Keokuk 6 03 E Teac... Nashville... 3 65 E
Topeka 9 32 E +2 KnoxvUle. . .
26W 4-1
Ness City. 11 40 E +2 Memphis. . 35 E + 1
—
. . .
Lexington. , . 13E 1 Tef..,. Austin 55 E 4-3

Paducah 4 24 E Saa Antonio. 31 E 4-3
Louisville 1 11 E —4-2 Houston. . .
24 E 4-3
E 4-3
Baton Rouge. 6 14 E Galveston. .
O."*
New Orleana.. 6 45 E
4-2 El Paso 46 E 4-4
Shreveport . . 7 30 E
4-2 Utah.. SaltLake . . .
21 E 4-3
Bangor 18 25W4-6 Ogden 17 E +2
Portland ..... 15 65 4-0W Vt Montpeller. .. 16W 4-6
48W 4-6
Eastport ..... 20 37"W 4-0 Burlington..
Annapolis. . . 6 31W 4-4 Va.... Richmond 37W 4-4
Baltimore. .. . 6 42W 4-4 Norfolk 22 W 4-4
Boston 14 DOW 4-6 Lynchburg .
37W 4-3
E
1
Plttsfleld 12 21W 4-6 Wash. Olympla ao 4-3

Lansing 1 42W 4-2 Walla Walla. 03E 4-3
Detroit. 55W 4-3 W. Va. Charleston.. 63W 4-8
Marquette. 51 E —2 Wheeling. . . 56W 4-3
—
E wy... Madison. 46 £ 1
St. Paul
Duluth
. . 60
35 E — Milwaukee.
.
04 E
.
.
.
— 1
Jackson . . 18 E 4-1 La Croste ..... 6 tSE n
Oxford. . . 46 E 4-1 Wyo. Cheyenne JlS 9E +3
A plus ( + ) sign to tTie annua.! change denotes that the de-

^rlination is increasing, and a minus ( — ) sign the reverse.
76 CAMl^lNCi AND WOODCRAFT
—
Meridian by Watch. One's watch, if it be
keeping correct time, and the sun is shining, can be
used as a compass (Fig. ii). The watch being
set by local (sun) time, turn the face of the watch
to the sun in such position that the hour-hand shall
point to the sun. Half-way between the hour-hand
and 12 o'clock will then be the south point (south
of the equator, the north point). Of course, when
the sun is near the zenith this trick will not work.
To do the thing accurately, hold a grass stem
Fig. 11. — Meridian by Sun
or other small object vertically so its shadow will be

cast across the face of the watch, and then bring the
hour-hand into this shadow.
By laying the watch on a level place and sighting
across it at a pole, the true meridian may be estab-
lished closely enough for most purposes.
Meridian by Shadow. —^When rough-and-ready
methods are not precise enough for one's purpose,
the following method will give a true meridian by
which variation of the compass may be corrected
(Fig. 12) :On a smooth and level piece of ground
lean a pole toward the north and rest it in a crotch
or on shears as shown. Make a plummet with
string and stone or other weight, and suspend it
from the end of the pole so that the plumb-bob
nearly touches the ground.
Drive a peg {S in the figure) directly under the
plummet. Then, an hour or two before noon, attach
a string to the peg and, with a sharpened stick tied
to the other end of the string, describe a semicircle,
or arc of a circle, with a radius equal to the distance
from the peg S to the shadow of the tip of the pole.
Drive a peg on the arc where the shadow of the tip
of the pole rested. About an hour after noon, watch
the shadow of the tip as it approaches the eastern
side of the arc, and drive another peg at the point
'1:^^^^.
Fig. IZ— True North and South
where it crosses. Then with a string find the middle
point of the straight line joining the last two pegs

mentioned. Astraight line joining this middle
point and the peg under the plummet will lie in the
true meridian.
To get the variation of the compass needle, set up
a pole exactly in line with the short line mentioned
above, and sight back from the pole to the tip of
the slanting stick that holds the plummet. Make
a note of the variation, so many degrees east or west,
and use this when running a line by compass.
—
Meridian by Pole Star. Everj^body knows the
"Dipper" in the constellation of the GreatBear
JFig, 13). Its stars never set but revolve around
the North Star. The two
stars forming the front
of the Dipper's bowl
and b in the figure), called
{a
the "pointers," point toward a conspicuously bright
* POLESTAR
\
\
\
\
S.O'
c ^ -f
•>•+ -^
^
Fig. 13 — Position of Big Dipper above or below

the Pole Star when the Pole Star is due North.
star which is Polaris, the North or Pole Star.

The North Star bears exactly due north only
twice a day. It is always close enough to steer by,
but if one wishes to correct his compass by it he must
do so at a time when the double star in the middle
of the Dipper's handle (c in the figure) is either
directly above or directly below the North Star, for
that is when the bearing is correct. At all other
hours Polaris bears somewhat east or west of true
north.
To find the true meridian: set up two poles ten
or twelve feet apart and exactly In line with the
North Star, at such time as mentioned above. The
front pole should be illuminated by a lantern or
candle so that correct sight can be taken. Next
day the line of sight can be prolonged, and the com-
pass variation determined,
^
CHAPTER VI
ROUTE SKETCHING— MAPPING-

MEASURING
Among the pleasures of life in a wild country 1
count first the thrill of exploring new ground,
"Something hidden: go and find it!" He who does
not respond to that mainspring is out of order —
his works need looking into.
Of course, the whole earth has been rambled over
by somebody before our time; but it suffices one of
us to bore into some wild region that is unknown to
himself, unknown to his companions, and which
never has been mapped in detail.
I used to go hunting, every fall, with two or three
comrades who felt as I did about such matters. We
never hired a guide. On arriving at a blank spot
we would spend the first day or two scouting. We
would scatter, scour the country, and then, around
thecamp fire at night, we would describe, in turn,
what we had found.
Verbal reports, such as these, are more entertain-
ing than useful. The crudest sort of a sketch on
paper would have taught us much more. By com-
bining our route sketches we might have produced
a serviceable map of the country for miles around.
I wish we had made such maps. I would love to
pore over them in these later years.
We thought that route sketching would take too
much time and trouble. That was a mistake. Any-
body who can read a compass and draw lines of
direction can make a practical route sketch without
losing more than twenty-five per cent of a steady
ROUTE SKETCHlJNCi 8i
jog. The only instruments and materials needed

are a pocket compass, a watch, a lead pencil, and a
notebook, or a bit of paper tacked on a piece of thin
board.
Fig, 14. —
Route sketch showing method of
computing distances by counting paces
from point to point
As examples, I give here a couple of sketches
(Figs. 14 and 15) showing, respectively, the back-
Woods half of the wagon road and the over-mountain
trail to "the last house up Deep Creek," where I
once lived for a year or so. I made these while still
new to the country, without losing more than half
an hour from regular marching time. First, I
walked in to the railway station, pacing and sketch-
ing the trail as I went. The next day I returned
by wagon, mapping the road and the creek, without
once checking the horses, and judging distances
altogether by eye.
My rough sketches were made in a vest-pocket
memorandum book that was quadrille ruled. Mere
lines showed the road, trail, creek, and branches, as
in Fig. 14, and the sketch map was finished on larger
paper w^hen I got home. My compass had a dial
of only ij/^ inch, which is small for such work. I
wore it in a leather strap on my left w^rist, like a
wrist watch so it never was in the way, yet always
;
was right under the eye when needed. To orient

the instrument. It could be slipped out of its guard
in a second or two, though this was seldom necessary.
Afterwards I discarded this way of carrying a
compass, because it had to be open-faced and was
too easily smashed.
Considering that the country here was rough, and
so densely timbered that there were few outlooks,
and that I did not use a protractor nor even a ruler,
I was pleased to find that my "closures" required
very little "humoring in," as a surveyor would say.
I had a U. S. topographical map of the country, but
It was so defective that it was of no use, save in
establishing one or two "controls."
In sketching a route it is convenient, though not
necessary, to use paper ruled in little squares. Any
dealer in draughting materials can supply cross-
section paper ruled ten lines to the inch. piece A
of «uch paper, about 7 x 10 inches, tacked on a thin
board and carried in the hand, is a good way. If
ROUTE SKETCHING 83
this too cumbersome, use a notebook, as I did, and,
is
when you come to an edge of the paper, start anew

on a fresh page. If you have nothing but plain
-.----p-l — -——.„--
paper, a measuring instrument must be used, which
need be no more than your octagonal lead pencil on
which you have scored two or three inches with their
subdivisions.
If you are merely plotting a course, it is not
necessary to sketch in so many topographic features
as are shown in these examples. In any case it is a
mistake to crowd the sheet with details, as they
might be confusing. In the present instance the
route ran through a mountainous country, but I
made no attempt to show contours, nor even to note
the steep slopes, for there was a trail all the way.
I did note, separately, the marching time from point
to point (not shown in sketches), and that is im-
portant. The time table of actual marching, in
connection with the plotted route, showed plainly
enough where the going was slow.
—
Scale of Sketch. The first thing to do Is to
fix on a certain scale to be used in plotting. In
Fig. 14 it is four inches to a mile, meaning that four
inches on the map corresponds to a mile on the
ground Itself. Therefore a side of each of the little
I -10 inch squares represents 44 yards of actual dis-
tance. In Fig. 15 it is two inches to the mile. (The

cuts in this book are reduced from the originals).
Sometimes it may be more convenient to use a man's
pace or a horse's stride as the unit of a scale. In
any case, the scale adopted must be noted on the
margin of the paper, and an arrow must be drawn
on the map to show the true north and south line.
Pacing Distances. —^When traveling afoot, dis-
tances are judged by counting one's paces. A man's
normal from 27 to 33 inches, according
stride varies
to individualsand nature of ground. Woodsmen
commonly exceed this, owing to their rolling gait.
The conventional surveyor's pace is 30 inches, and
so that of infantry "quick time."
Is Do not try to
pace yards, or any other arbitrary distance. That Is
unnatural, fatiguing, distracts your attention, and
cannot be kept up on a long hike. Walk at your
ROUTE SKETCHING 85
natural stride back and forth over a measured dis-

tance, and average the results. Do this after a long
walk, for by that time jou will have ''struck your
gait." Practice first over fairly level ground, and
then up and down steep places, learning to make
allowances, by lengthening out a little when going
up-hill and shortening the stride when going down-
hill.
One's stride on the march, after he has settled

down to it, is likely to be longer than it is in town.
In my own case, on a hike over fair road, I find that
my pace is about 33 inches (three inches longer than
it is around home), and the cadence of a steady jog
is 100 steps to the minute. This makes 1,920 paces

to the mile. Allowing for uneven ground, I figure
on 2,000 paces to the mile, and three miles an hour.
This happens to be convenient in plotting, for, when
mapping on a scale of, say, four inches to the mile,
each of the i-io inch squares on my cross-section
paper represents just 100 paces of 31.68 inches
average, and on a scale of two inches to the mile
it is 50 paces. Timber cruisers figure on 2,000
paces to the mile, or 1,000 "cruiser paces" (double
paces, as explained below).
The —
Application. At the start, take the bear-
ings by compass of some object that you can see in
advance. Then jog along, counting every other pace
(left or right foot only) as you go. To count every
single pace would be needlessly wearisome. Where
there is a long distance between bearing points, drop
a pebble into your pocket for every hundred double
paces.
When the object you sighted is reached, mark its
location on the paper, as nearly as you can, accord-
ing to compass bearing and distance traversed. Un-
tilyou become skilful at this without sight compass
and protractor, check your first reading by turning
around and taking the bearing back to your starting
point.
Having located the object, draw a line from the
starting point corresponding to your course, number
this first stop "i," and note on the margin the num-
ber of paces from o to i, as well as the time between
them. Then take a fresh bearing on some other
object ahead, and continue the same wây.
—
Time. In the wilderness, where roads generally
are bad, if there are any at all, the distance tra-
versed is of less consequence, for a mere route sketch,
than the time taken to cover it. Your estimates of
distance may be faulty, but your watch can be relied
upon.
Time measurements also are good enough for
rough mapping of open country and fairly straight
courses, where it is not necessary to count paces in
order to keep the general bearings correct.
Judging Distances by Eye. In thickets,—
swamps, blow-downs, steeps, and other places so
rough that one can neither pace steadily nor judge
distance by time, a man going alone must estimate
by eye only. It is remarkable how skilful men can
become at this by assiduous practice. Riflemen
generally are good judges of distances by eye. Tim-
ber cruisers are better still. Amateurs should seldom
trust their estimates of distance in the woods and
mountains, or over water, for intervals of over lOO
yards.
When two men travel together they can assist
each other in estimating. Let your partner walk
away lOO paces, then hold your pencil at arm's
length, and measure his apparent height on It from
pencil tip down with your thumb-nail, as an artist
does In landscape sketching. Mark that point with
your knife. Then let him go another lOO paces;
measure and mark again. This scale can be used
thereafter wherever his full height Is visible.
Pedometers save considerable trouble where
good or the country Is fairly level and open,
trails are
but they are of no use In rough country, since they
record every step taken, regardless of whether It Is
in the course or not.
ROUTE SKETCHING 87
—
Paces of Animals. The paces of saddle animals
vary according to individuals, but can soon be deter-
mined by test. This should be done both at walk and
trot, counting only the double pace, like that of a
man, when walking, or the rise when trotting. The
pace of a horse is as uniform as that of a man. A
mule's gait is still steadier and the stride is more
even.
Distance by Sound. —In mapping a consider-
able territorythe mountains, where pacing is
in
unreliable and may be impracticable, two men can
work to advantage if one carries a gun or pistol and
the other a stop-watch. For example, you wish to
know the distance from camp to a certain peak.
The man with the gun climbs the peak, and fires a
shot when he gets there, to call his comrade's atten-
tion. Then he ties his neckerchief on a stick, and,
stepping out in plain view, signals with the extem-
porized flag, and fires at the same Instant. The
man in camp times, with his stop-watch, the interval
between signal and arrival of the gun's report.
Sound travels, in quiet open air, approximately at
the following rates, according to temperature:
VELOCITY OF SOUND
At— 30° Fahr., 1030 ft. per sefc.=l mile in 5.13 sees.
— 20° " 1040
"
=1 " 5.08 "
— 10° " 1050
"
:=1 " 5.03 "
— 0° " 1060
"
=1 " 4.98 "
— 10° "
1070
"
=1 "
4.93
"
— 20° "
1080
"
=1 "
4.88
"
— 32° "
1092
"
=1 "
4.83
"
— 40° "
1100
"
=1 "
4.80
"
— 50° ''
1110
"
=1 "
4.78
"
— 60° "
1120
" =1 "
4.73
"
— 70° "
1130
•'
=1 "
4.68
"
— 80° "
1140
"
=1 "
4.63
"
— 90° "
1150
"
"
=1 "
"
4.59
"
"
—100° " 1160 ^1 4.55
" " "
—110° " 1170 =1 4.51
" " "
—120° " 1180 =1 4.47
When the air is calm, fog or rain does not ap-

preciably affect the result wind does, of course. The
;
report of a gun, being sharp and hud, travels con-
siderably faster than this for a short distance, but
the above table is a close enough approximation for
the purposes of sketch mapping.
—
Distances on Rivers. Floating down a river
of fairly regular current, one may estimate distances
pretty closely by keeping his boat in midstream and
timing it from point to point.
Landmarks. — My sketches show how landmarks
are noted along the route. In the wild and unin-
habited country beyond our house I would have
noted old camp grounds, gaps, bad thickets, cliffs,
etc., in a similar way. Where the forest and con-
tours are of uniform character, one should establish
here and there, some artificial marks. Where tree
blazing is not permitted, blazed stakes may be driven,
bush-marks made, stones piled, and so on, according
to circumstances.
Written notes will help anyone who is to follow
the route. The examples here printed were made
for a friend who wanted to visit me, but who could
not foretell, a day in advance, when he could get
away from business. After directing him to get a
U. S. Geological Survey topographical sheet for the
country south of us, which was accurate up to the
place where my sketch map began, I wrote him:
There are two ways to our place. One is a wagon

road over which a team can haul one thousand
pounds when Jupiter isn't pluviating. There are
eighteen fords in the last six miles. The creek is
impassable for a few hours after a smart rain. Ford
10 ("the deep ford") always wets a, wagon bed. Ford
12, at the Perry gap, is dangerous when there is ice.
No footbridge between Hunnicut's and McCracken's,
nor any habitation.
The other way is by trail across the mountain
from Hunnicut's, This is always practicable for a
mountain-bred horse or mule with light pack, but he
must do some sliding down from either the Mc-
Cracken gap or the Fullback.
Trail at Hunnicut's stable swerves sharply to the
right, up a steep bank, and thence onward goes
through thick forest^ At McCracken gap our fork
ROUTE SKETCHING 89
of the trail is marked by a small oak, with burl at
heigiht of your head, blazed last year with a cross,
and pencil-marked with arrow. The trail to Indian
Creek and the Cherokee reserve on Lufty ds much
fainter than ours.
Mapping. —Observe that a mere route sketch is
only intended to show the way from one point to

another, and tell the user where he
is at any stage
of the journey. Hence need not be mathematic-

it
ally accurate, and hence it can be made swiftly, with

crude instruments. Mapping proper is much slower
work. Still, a very useful and practical map of a
region several miles square can be made in a few
days by one man, combining his route sketches, pro-
vided he takes a little more pains in locating a few
prominent landmarks as ''controls."
In the example already given the country was so
heavily timbered that there were few outlooks from
which mountain tops or other features could be ob-
served from different points on the journey. If
there had been such, I would have noted their bear>
ings from different positions, and thus would have
had a series of positive checks or controls by which
to regulate my sketches. How this is done is shown
in Fig. 16, which is reproduced from an article in
Outing, by C. H. Morrill. In this case a 4 x 7
notebook was used, the left-hand page being ruled
for notes on compass bearings, distances (a pedo-
meter was carried), time, etc., while the sketch was
drawn on the right-hand page. Notice the compass
bearings of mountains, brooks and pond.
If a similar trip had been made a few miles away,
and bearings taken on objects visible on the first
route, the two sketches could be combined into a
map, as in Fig. 15. Where there were discrepancies
they could be humored in by "splitting the differ-
ence," and the finished work would be true enough
for practical purposes.
If one has a reliablemap of the region he is in,
but on too small a scale to show the details that he
go CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
wants to record, he can use some of the major
features on the map as controls, and thus make his
sketch map pretty accurate.
A method of making more accurate sketch maps
with an improvised plane table, or with a cavalry-
sketching case carried on the left wrist, is given in
a handy little pocket manual of Military Map Read-
ing; Field, Outpost and Road Sketching, by Major
Wm. D. Beach, U. S. A. (Hudson Publishing Co.,
Kansas City, Mo.).
"/A t<o t. A ^/><y
»fl(U«"
Fig. 16.— Route sketch by C. H. Morrill
Extemporary Measurements. —A 3-foot pock-

et steel tapeweighs only a couple of ounces and
takes up no more room than a watch. It is a good
thing for a woodsman to carry, as he often has occa-
sion to take measurements. Where the tape is in-
convenient to use, he can measure with it a certain
length on a straight pole, or on a fish line. Lack-
ing this, he should have a measure scored on his
pencil, hatchet handle (if straight), inside of waist
ROUTE SKETCHING 91
belt, or some other article of equipment that he con-

stantly carries.
He should also know some of the measurements
of his body. The first joint of the I'ltle finger, for
instance, may be one inch, or the thumb an inch
wide. Clench both fists, making the extended
thumbs meet: this may bt just one foot. Measure
the span of thumb and little finger and the height
of your eye from the ground. The full stretch of
the extended arms is often used, but is unreliable on
curved surfaces, as in measuring the girth of a tree,
since it will be several inches shorter than if one
stood with his back to a flat wall and stretched his
arms horizontally.
To measure successive
lengths with a stout cord,
such as a fishing line: Knot
*:he line two or three
feet from one end, measure
off, 100 feet
say, from
this,and knot again, leav-
ing a stray end beyond the
second knot. One end
could be looped, as in Fig.
I'ja, in which case you stick
Fig. 17. — Hitches on
Measuring Line
a smooth peg inthe
ground, put the loop over the peg, carry out the
hundred feet, set a peg there, and then jerk the line
upward, which, if the ground is smooth, will cause a
wave to run along it that will lift the loop off the
first peg. But a permanent loop is too likely to
catch in bushes, etc.: so it is better to leave plain
ends as I have described, and make your loop each
time with a hitch (Fig. I'jb) so it may shake out as
it comes of¥ the peg, leaving only a free end to be
hauled in. A
sheepshank (Fig. 17c) may be used
for the same purpose.
However, in the woods, it is better to fasten your
linewith a signal halyard hitch (Fig. 17^) to any

convenient small tree or bush that stands fairly in
the line you wish to measure. Pass the end of the
line twice round the stem or peg, then, taking the
end and a small bight of the measuring part, hitch
them as if you were going to tie a reef knot, pull
the first hitch tight, but do not complete the knot
by making the second hitch this will hold quite fast
;
enough, and a slight jerk will be sufficient to set it

free when you wish to haul in the end.
A
measuring line should merely be straight upon
the ground, not drawn taut; still less should it be
lifted up and then pulled to a straight line in the
air. Cords of any kind are too easily stretched to
be trusted for measuring if there is any strain on
them.
To —
Set Out a Right Angle. Any triangle the
sides of which are in the proportion of 3, 4, and 5,
is a right angled triangle. For example; Measure
40 feet on a line that you
wish to run at right angles,
Peg A and B (Fig. 18).
Fasten end of tape at A,
take 80 feet, and fasten 80-
foot mark at B. Then,
taking tape in hand, walk
aside till BC and ACare
taut. BC is then perpen-
dicular to AB, and j5 is a
îght angle.
Fig. I8.-T0 Lay
Out a Right Angle 1 MEASURE AN IN-
ACCESSIBLE Distance. —
The width of a river, for instance, may be measured
with the aid of a pocket compass. Say the river
runs east and west, and you are on the south side.
Choose a tree {A, Fig. 19), or other well defined
mark on the opposite shore, and bring it to bear due
north of you. Mark your position with a peg at
B ; turn to one side, say the left, and walk westward
till A bears exactly northeast, and put a peg there,
C; then CB will equal BA, the breadth of the river,

because CB and BA subtend an angle of 90°, or a
.
ROUTE SKETCHING 93
right angle, and must therefore be of equal length.
Since your readings on a small compass may not
be quite true, check them, if the ground permits, by
walking east till A bears northwest from D. If the
Fig. 19. — Measuring Width of River by Compass.
two observations do not quite coincide, the mean of

the two will be approximately correct.
If you have no compass,
there are many ways of
measuring an inaccessible
distance by angles other-
wise determined, provided
there is enough level land
on your side for the pur-
pose. One of these is shown
in Fig. 20. Sight a con-
spicuous object, as before. Fig. 20. — Measuring
Plant a stake about 5 feet Width without
Compass
high at A J as nearly oppo-
site and "square" as you can judge. Set up another
stake at B, as nearly at a right angle as you can, and
at about one-half the estimated distance to your
mark. Continue ABstraight to C and plant another
stake. AB must equal BC. Now set a stake at D,
at right angle to base, wherever the line DB con-
tinued will strike the object across the river that you
have been sighting at. Then DC
equals the width
across.
To Measure an Inaccessible Height or
Htipth.- —Suppose vou wish to measure the height
,

of a cliff, a tree, or other object the base of which
you can reach, and with fairly level ground in front
of it. In Fig. 21, the man wants to know the length
of the merchantable "stick" below the tree branches.
He estimates the height by eye, then paces off that
distance and marks it at C. He cuts a stake about
as long as himself, stands it in front of him and
marks on it with his knife the height of his eye, then
sharpens the few inches remaining. At C he drives
""'^
X '^
J Fig. 21.
•^-^^-^-^^-^-^^^j^^m^
— Measuring a Height.
the stake perpendicular, with the knife mark level

with the ground. Then he lies down with feet
against the stake, as shown, and sights at the tree.
If the line of sight over the top of stake does not
strike the point Aj he shifts, and tries again, until
the alignment is correct. The height AB then
equals the distanceBC.
Some backwoodsmen have a rough-and-ready way
of estimating the height of a tree. They walk off
until its topmost branches or first fork can be viewed
by looking backwards between the outstretched legjs
ROUTE SKETCHING 95
with practice this method may become pretty ac^
curate.
On level open country a height can be measured
by shadow. Set up vertically a stick of known
length; measure the length of its shadow, and that
of the whose height is required. As the
object
length of stick's shadow is to stick's length, so is thai
of the object's shadow to the object's height. For
example: the stick is 5 feet long and its shadow 7,
while the shadow of the têe is 70 feet; then
7;5::7o:x, and x— 50 feet.
D
Fig. 22. — Extemporized Level
To measure a depth with the watch: square the

number of seconds a stone takes to reach the bottom,
and multiply by 16: the result is the depth in feet.
—
Leveling. ^Take a short straight stick or ruler,
A B m Fig. 22, mark it exactly in the middle, and
suspend it with a string with loop at C directly over
the middle of the stick, from which latter a little
weight D is suspended to keep the wind from shak-
ing the level. To use the instrument: hold it from
C above your head so that top of stick is in line with
your eye, and sight along the surface, noting at what
point of the ground the line of sight corresponds.
Going there, you have ascended a distance equal to
the height of your eye from the ground. Many ap^
plications of this method will suggest themselves.
do not give more elaborate processes of measure
I
ing and leveling, because the simple ones here
described are accurate enough for a woodsman's
purposes, and they take little time or trouble.
Time. —A leaf of an almanac for the month you
are out is useful in case your watch runs down.
The JVorld Ahnanac shows the time of rising and
setting of sun and moon for four different zones
from the Atlantic to the Pacific. These, of course,
are dependable only when you can observe them on
a level horizon but the time when the sun is in the
;
zenith (directly overhead) is also given for every

day in the year, on the meridian of Washington, and
you can allow for the difference in time wherever
you may be. The sun is in the zenith when a
straight pole casts its shortest shadow.
A practical sundial is easily extem.porized by
sweeping of¥ a level place and planting in it a 5-foot
stick slanted toward the north by compass. Nail
the stick to a stout stake driven under it, so it cannot
be moved, and sharpen the upper end so as to cast
a finely tapered shadow. When the sun shines, take
5ôur watch and stick a peg at the end of the shadow
for each even hour. Subdivisions of the hour can
be marked by shorter pegs. In a fixed camp such
a sundial is handy near the cook's fire. Often I
have boiled my three-minute eggs by one. If the
pegs are altered every week they will indicate near
enough actual sun time for practical purposes.
CHAPTER VII
TRIPS AFOOT
Quand na pas choual, monfc bourique;
Qnand na pas bourique, montc cabri;
Quand na pas cabri, motxte jambe.
(When you have no horse, you ride a donkey;
When you have no donkey, you ride a goat;
When you have no goat, you ride your legs.)
—Creole Sayint/.
The man who goes afoot, prepared to camp any-

where and in any weather, Is the most independent
fellow on earth. He can follow his bent, obey the
whim of the hour, do what he pleases w^henever he
pleases, without deference to anybody, or care for
any beast of burden, or obedience to the course of
any current. He is footloose and free. Where
neither horse nor boat can go, he can go, seeing coun-
try that no other kind of traveler ever sees. And
it is just these otherwise inaccessible places that have
the strongest lure for anyone who delights in new

discovery, in unspoiled nature, and in the charms of
primitive societ)^
The man with the knapsack is never lost. No
matter whither he may stray, his food and shelter
are right with him, and home is wherever he may
choose to stop. There is no anxiety about the mor-
row, or the day after. Somewhere he will come
—
out and one place is as good as another. No
panic-stricken horse, or wrecked canoe, can leave
him naked in the wilderness.
But how to do it? This is the hardest problem
in outfitting. To equip a pedestrian with shelter,
bedding, utensils, food, and other necessities, in a
pack so light and small that he can carry it without
overstrain, is really a fine art. One can't enjoy wild
07
98 CAMPING AND WOODCRAt J.
scenery and backwoods characters if bending and

chafing under a load of fardels, all the time con-
scious that he is making a pack animal, a donkey, of
himself.
Consider, then, your personal equation. If you
are middle-aged city man, soft from a year
a
or more of office work, about twenty pounds on your
back is all the weight that you ought to carry. Even
that little will be burdensome the first day out;
but soon you will be striding along all day hardly
knowing it is there. A younger man, or one who
gets a good deal of daily exercise in the open air,
can do the same with thirty pounds, until he gets in
1
training, and then go considerably more.
I am
speaking of all-day hikes, across country,
through the woods, uphill and down dale. In un-
tracked wilderness, especially if it be mountainous,
it takes a husky fellow, in good form, to pack fifty
pounds without over-exertion. Yes, infantrymen

carry seventy, sometimes, but they don't do it through
thickets, over rocks and down-logs, up and down
ravines, where there are no trails — nor* are they out
for the fun of the thing. The personal equation,
—
then your own — regardless ot what other folks
do, or think you ought to do. Find out what is
light and easy for you, and then GO LIGHT,
Weigh the essentials. Are you to sleep out? You
need a comfortable bed, shelter from rain, and se-
curity against venomous insects. Food, then, for how
many meals ? Choose what can be cooked with the
simplest and lightest utensils, and what will give
you the most nourishment for its weight and bulk,
and surh as does not require more than half an hour
to make ready and fit for the stomach. Bedding,
shelter, food and something to prepare it in: those
are the essentials, besides the clothes on your back
and the contents of your pockets. Anything else
is dispensable, to be picked with care and weighed
with scales, and balanced against some other thing

that might be of more real use or pleasure.
Then how is the weight to be carried? A great
TRIPS AFOOT gg
deal depends on getting a pack so adjusted that it
will "ride" just right, shoulders and hips each bear-
ing their due part of the strain, with as little bind-
ing and chafing as possible.
Finally, will you go in company or alone? A
party of three or four uses the same tent, utensils,
and some other articles in common. That means
less weight for each man to carry. Twoin a bed
require less bedding than if they slept separately. A
satisfactory kit for one man who goes alone and
afoot is the last refinement in camp equipment. Be-
cause this is a particularly difficult problem I shall
give it special attention. Whoevermasters it wiU
have little trouble in getting up a squad outfit.
—
Clothes. This topic has been considered in de-
tail in Vol. I. (pp. 138-163). Little need be added.
Footwear is the most important item. Shoes and
socks must FIT J or you will be made miserable by
blisters. For dry weather and fair roads, the stand-
ard U. S. Army shoes are excellent; but for rough
country, heavier ones, made over the Munson last,
are required. In the wilderness there is considerable
wading to do, sometimes over the shoe tops. The
only shoes that will stand it are those that are water-
proofed and have no lining w^hatever: they dry out
soon on the march, and do not get hard or *'bowed
up." Buy them of some firm that makes a special-
ty of sportsmen's footwear.
Up to the season when Mackinaws are needed,
do not carry a coat. You would not wear it on the
m.arch, and, when the cool of evening comes, a
sweater coat or a Mackinaw stag shirt is more com-
fortable, besides being a good night garment, which
the coat distinctly is not. Then have a light-weight
rubber cape reaching just to the knee. From the
knee down you will get wet anyway, even though
you wear a long poncho or rain coat, and any gar-
ment that flops against the legs at every stride is a
positive nuisance besides, it will soon tear when you
;
thrash through brush, and it will trip you at every

step in climbing. A cape has the merits of a pon-
loo CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
cho, in that it is airy underneath, and it can be
slipped on over the pack-sack, while it has the ad-
vantage of leaving your arms free to fend off bushes,
to climb with, to shoot, paddle, and so on.
There is a pattern called the "Fairy," 34 inches
long, that weighs only 21 ounces and takes up hard-
ly any room when packed. It and a medium-weight
sweater coat together weigh only about six ounces
more than a duxbak hunting coat. Worn together,
they form good protection against a cold, keen wind.
Carry a change of underwear. When on a hike,
take your bath or rub-down at close of day, instead
of in the morning; then change to fresh underwear
and socks, and put on your sweater and trousers to
sleep in. Fresh dry underclothes are as warm as an
extra blanket would be if one slept in the sweaty
—
garments he wore during the day to say nothing
of cleanliness.
—
Shelter. Rain is the campaigner's worst enemy.
Jack Frost can be kept at bay, in a timbered region,
though you be bivouacing under the stars but you;
require a waterproof roof to defy Jupiter Pluvius.

The kind will depend chiefly on whether you go
alone or In company. For two or more, choose one
of the very light tents described in Vol. I. (pp. 76-
108). When going alone, in summer, a simple
shelter cloth and small mosquito bar are sufficient.
They can easily be made at home. Take, for ex-
ample, seven yards of the green waterproof material
called verdalite, which comes in 38-inch width, and
weighs 4.% ounces to the running yard. Sew up
three widths seven feet length, and hem all
of
around, making a rectangle very nearly 7x9
feet.
Put small grommets or eyelets around all four edges,
for tie-strings.The completed shelter cloth, in this
will weigh about 2^4 pounds, in water-
m.aterial,
proofed ''balloon silk," or similar stuff, about 2j4
pounds.
Such a cloth may be set up in various ways. One
of the quickest is to\tie or nail a pole horizontally
irom one sapling to another, four feet from the
TRIPS AFOOT loi
ground, for a ridge, and tie one 9^he 9-foot sides

of the cloth to it. Tie the otheF^jdfe^f the cloth
to another straight pole, draw
oi^'t<a ^
angle of
45°, and pin the pole down with ^îftrt^ crotch
at each end. That is all. You Mteôtja'^d*'
sheltering a space 5^
by 9 feet, anolJ^Wj^f^
front. Under thisyou sleep parallel \x^^"^t[
instead of feet toward it. If no small tre^^^
the right place, set up a pair of forked stS^
5n rocky ground, shears (Vol. I., p. 46). Shar^
both ends of a pliant green stick, bend it into a bd^,
and drive the ends into the ground on either side
at the head of your bed, to support your mosquito
netting; crawl under, and tuck the edges of the
net under your bedding.
Smoke from the camp-fire does not hang under
such a shelter, as there is free draught through it.
If the wind shifts lean a pole against the ridge, on
the wîndward side, and stack some boughs against
it. Nothing could be simpler, cheaper, lighter, more
compact, nor, in the long run, more satisfactory for
the lone forest cruiser in summer, than this plain
rectangle of thin but close-woven waterproof cloth.
One of its advantages is that a stretcher-bed, if you
carry such a thing, can be set up under it without
bother about the length of poles. With the cloth
set up over a big fallen log for windbreak, as al-
ready described under Bivouacs^ there is plenty of
headroom. If you wish to stay a few days in one
place, the cloth can be used as a roof over a frame
of baker tent form. I carry a few wire nails and
tacks for making such a structure.
For a mosquito bar, take two yards of the fine
mesh that comes in 68-inch width, and hem the ends,
or use bobbinet, which is stronger and a better pro-
tection.
—
Bedding. Don't bed down on the cold, hard
earth. And, unless you know the country to be
traversed, don't depend on finding balsam or hem-
lock for a brow^se bed wherever 5ôu may spend a
night. In Vol. I. ^p. 134) I have spokt^. of the
T02 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
bed One that I now have, made of romper
tick.
cloth, a bag 32 x 78 inches, to be filled with dry
is
leaves, if nothing better is found, and closed with

horse-blanket pins; it weighs just one pound, and
takes up very space in the knapsack.
little The
leaves, being in a bag, cannot spread from under
you they cushion the body and keep off the chill
;
of the ground. A
3-pound blanket on top of such
a mattress is warmer than a 5-pound one without
it, and a pound weight is saved, to say nothing of
bone-ache. That is enough for summer camping,

unless you are at a considerable aUitude.
A 20 X 30-inch pillow-bag will weigh 3 ounces.
Stuff it with leaves or other soft material, before
you turn in at night, close the end with safety pins,

and pin your towel over it if the Jiurface is not
soft enough.
Cooking Kit. — It is easy tomake up a good light-
vveight set of utensils for two or more loen (see
Vol. I. pp. 1 18-123), but a satisfactory one-man kit
is another matter. The Boy Scout sets do fairly
well for a short outing when baked bread is carried,
but are inadequate for baking on the journey. A
reflector is too cumbersome for a lone woods-cruiser.
Let him bake his bread and cakes in a fr>ing-pan
(see Vol. I, pp. 344-345). This, calls for an 8 or
9-inch pan. Get one with folding handle (detach-
able ones are easily lost), or take a common one,
cut off all of the handle but about i^ inches, and
rivet on this stub a semi-circular socket into which
you fit your stick for a handle when you go to cook-
ing. For general use I do not like aluminum fry-
ing pans, but when traveling afoot they are satis-
factory. A
deep aluminum plate fits inside the pan
in my kit, along with an aluminum fork, white-
metal dessert spoon, and a dish towel. When tied
up tightly in a light bag they do not rattle around.
You want two little kettles for cereals, dried fruit,
tea or coffee, to mix dough in, and the like. A pot
that broad and shallow boils water much sooner
is
•hpn one that is deep and narrow, ana i% is easiej
TRIPS AFOOT I03
to clean. The must not be too big to stow

kettles
in the knapsack.Anywa}^ when one is going afoot
he does not want to bothei with food that takes
long boiling, and so has no use for a large kettle,
1 choose two I -quart aluminum buckets, which can
be bought through any dealer in kitchen ware, fill
them with part of my foodstuffs, set them bottom
to bottom, and tie them tightly in a bag so that
the covers wîll not come off. So there is no waste
space, for the food must go somewhere, anyway.
The kettles are good protection for perishables.
Thus no sooty vessel goes inside another, and you
have a package of small diameter.
Aseamless tin cup is carried wherever conveni-
ent, generally outside the pack, where it can be got
at when one is thirsty. Aluminum is much too hot
for cup and spoon. The complete kit weighs just
2 lbs. 2 oz. including bags. No table knife is car-
ried, as I wêar a sheath knife.
—
Tools, etc. In summer the little i2-ounce
tomahawk already mentioned is all that is needed in
that line, its chief uses being to get kindling m
wet
weather, provide poles and thatch for shelter, blaze
a trail, and so on. A
small pair of side-cutting
fliers is well worth its weight, if you are a fisher-
man.
The first aid kit mentioned in the following lists
IS made up I. (p. 175), with the
as described in Vol.
addition of a "snake doctor'* which consists of a
hard rubber tube, about half the size of a fountain
pen, in one end of which is a lancet (very dull as
you buy it) and in the other a receptacle containing
potassium permanganate in crystals ready to be
rubbed into the incision. There is also a pair of
splinter forceps. The w^hole goes in a tin tobacco box,
4^x3 j^xi^ inches, sealed airtight with adhesive
plaster,and weighs 5 ounces.
Other small "icta" wnll vary according to one's
personal taste and requirements. The point is to
have them compact and of unnoticeable weight.
For a trip afoot there is no need of a whole SDooI
of thread, for example, or of wire, or a quarter-
pound mirror, or a large towel, or a whole cake of
soap.
One-man Kit for Summer. — an example, to
Âs
be modified each for himself, below a summer
I list
marching and camping outfit (good also as a canoe-
ing kit) complete for a man going alone. It is
enough most parts of our country, but warmer

in
bedding would be required at high altitudes, and
perhaps a closed tent, such as the *'Compac" or one of
the semi-pyramid type, weighing 3^ to 4 pounds,
instead of the one-pound shelter cloth. The total
weight of the pack, as here given, including two
days' full rations, is 23 pounds 2 ounces. The
whole equipment, except the few light articles worn
on the person, stows inside a pack sack of moderate
dimensions. There is nothing exposed to adver-
tise your mission ; so you give the idle curious some-
—
thing to puzzle and fret over ^which is good for
them.
With such an outfit and his gun or fishing tackle,
camera, or whatever may be the tools of his out-
doov hobby, anyone of average physique and a little
gumption can fare very well in the open, and enjoy
absolute independence.
It will be noticed that little is carried on the
person. Such things as are used many times n day
are right where they can be reached without fumb-
ling or pulling out the wrong article. Very little
weight is carried Comfort and supple-
on the belt.
ness of movement have been studied. There is no
"ditty bag" discarded such a pouch long ago.
* I
If worn on it often is in the way, and
the left side
it dangles provokingly when you lean over or get
down to crawl. If carried on the belt it is too

heavy there. When I go out just for a day, I carry
on my back a miniature knapsack containing the
cape, lunch, tea pail, and such other things as I need
for the work at hand. Five or six pounds on the
back is less burdensome than half that weight in s
dlny bag, and k is out of the way.
TRIPS AFOOT 105
It IS important in marching that the trousers
should be held snug up in the crotch, or there will
be chafing. They should not be tight around the
abdomen, as that would constrict blood-vessels and
interfere wîth digestion. Stout men, and those with
narrow hips, cannot depend on a belt, unless it is
drawn very much too tight. Ordinary suspenders
are best for them, but many object to their ap-
pearance, and so the "invisible" kind is specified in
this check-list, although it is hard on buttons.
SUMMER EQUIPMENT FOR BACK-PACKING

WEAR
Woolen gauze undershirt.
Woolen gauze (or balbriggan) drawers.
Woolen socks, winter weight, natural color.
Army overshirt, olive drab chambray (or flannel).
Silk neckerchief, 27 x 27 in.
Khaki trousers, extra suspender buttons.
Invisible suspenders.
Leather belt, narrow.
Army shoes, cone-headed Hungarian nails.
Army leggings, canvas.
Felt hat, medium brim, ventilated, felt sweat-band.
IN POCKETS
Left shirt— Map sections, in cover. Leaf of al-
manac. Note book and pencil.
Right —'Compass.
shirt.
Left — Purse. Waterproof match box,
trousers. flat
pattern (as reserve).
Right — Pocket knife.
trousers.
Fob.— Watch.
Left — Pipe. Tobacco.
hip.
Right — Bandanna handkerchief.
hip.
ON BELT
Right side, —Waterproofed matches
fro^tf. (50) in
leather belt-pocket.
Right —Sheath knife.
side, rear.
ON BACK
lbs. OZr
Duluth pack sack, 24 x 26 in. (see Fig. 32) . . 2 4
Shelter cloth, 7x9 ft., waterproof 2 4
Mosquito net, 68 x 72 in 4
U. S. A, blanket, >summer weight, 66 x 84 in, . . 3
Browse bag, 32 x 78 in 1
Pillow bag, 20 X 30 in 3
Rubber cape, 34 m 1 5
Stag shirt 1 8
Spare suit underwear and socks, as above.... 1 2
Tomaliawk, muzzled 12
Side-cutting pliers, 5 in, 4
Carborundum whetstone, 4 x 1 x in ^ 2
Wallet fitted with small scissors, needles, sail
needle, awl point, 2 waxed ends, thread on
card, sail twine, buttons, safety pins,
horse-blanket pins, 2 short rigged fish
lines, spare hooks, minnow hooks with
half barb filed off, sinkers, snare wire,
rubber bands, shoe laces 6
Strong twine in bag 1
Aluminum frying-pan (8^ fork,
in.), plate,
white-metal dessert spoon, dish towel, in
bag 1 J
2 Aluminum buckets (1 qt.), in "bag 14

Tin cup, seamless (1 pt.) 3
Nails and tacks 3
Cheesecloth, 1 yd 1
Fly dope, in pocket oiler 2

Talcum powder, in wpf. bag 1
Comb, tooth brush, tiny mirror, bit of soap
in wpf. bag, rolled in small towel secured
by rubber bands 6
Toilet paper 1
First aid kit 5
Spare matches, in tin box secured by adhesive
pla»ter 2
Electric fiasherj flat, round corners 5
Total pack without provisions. .18 3
fWO DAYS* RATIONS

lbs. oi
Bread, or prepared flour, in -vpf. bag net 1
"
Cereal, in bag 8
Milk powder, in bag (=1 qt. milk) " 4
*'
Butter, in tin 4
Bacon, sliced and trimmed, in waxed paper " 12
Cheese, in waxed paper " 4
Egg powder, in bag (=9 eggs) " 3
Raisins, in bag " 4
Dried apricots, prunes, or cranberries, in
bag 4
;;
Sugar, in bag " 6
Chocolate (for eating), in waxed paper.. " 4
Coffee, ground, in bag " 2
Tea, in bag " • • 1
TRIPS AFOOT 107
Salt, in bamboo tube ^ •'-C^x
"
2
Bags, paper, tin, tube ..

%%fo^,
.j3..''-<0.K.>v^;t'^V^.
TTo
5
The articles in the main pack suffice for an in-K (^

definite period. going out only for a couple f)->^ ^<>
If one is
of days he will not carry all of them. The Pô- ->^''^^^^5Jb».

visions aftord a varied diet, yet weigh no more > p^ Â> *
than "iron rations" of hardtack, bacon, and cofEee,*>-JÔ»
and they keep as well. They are very nourishing v> ^
for their wêight, being almost water-free (except
fresh bread, if taken instead of flour). Since one
usually travels either where fish or game can be
secured, or where farm produce can be bought, the
food packed along may last longer than two days.
If such rations as those here listed were carried
sufficient for a week, the whole burden would still
be only about 353^ pounds, allowing for a larger
pack sack.
When bread is to be baked on the journey, I
make up a mixture beforehand of wheat flour
(2 parts), cornmeal (l part), a little egg powder,
and some baking powder sifted in. This makes a
fine johnny-cake, lighter than common frying-pan
bread, wholesomer, and better tasting.
Abjure all canned stuffs on a marching trip. If
you test the canned meats, etc., that are put up in
tins small enough for one man, you will find that
nearly or quite half of the wêight is in the tin.
The little bags mentioned above are made of the
thin but stout paraffined cloth called by tent makers
"balloon silk." Salt draws too much moisture to be
carried in a bag, and it quickly rusts tin; so cut
a joint of bamboo to proper length, put in the salt,
and secure the cork with a strip of adhesive plaster.
Such tubes are useful for various purposes, being
very light and unbreakable.
In Vol. I. (p. 190), I spoke of the difficulty in get-
io8 CAMPING AND WOODCIL^FT
ting milk powder made of anything richer than skim
milk. Since then I have learned that a certain Nev/
York outfitter keeps in stock milk powder that con-
tain 27^ per cent, of butter fat, which is the U. S.
Government standard for whole milk, cream in-
cluded, and it is good.
A waterproof match box is good for emergencies,
but not for a smoker's daily supply. For this I
waterproof the matches themselves, as described in
Vol. I. (p. 173) and carry them on my belt in a
snap-buttoned pigskin case that came originally with
a round carborundum whetstone. This is the handi-
est way I know of when one does not wear a coat
or vest. A similar pocket will carry thirty .22~cali-
ber cartridges for your rifle or pistol.
A bag of the cheesecloth is used to carry fish in,
or to hang up game in when flies are about, and a
little square of it serves as substitute for a tea-ball.
Nails are not needed unless you expect to stay

several days in one place and wish to put up a
lean-to of baker tent shape, with shelter clorh for
roof, and thatched sides and back —
then they are use-
ful in making the frame. In that case you will
want half a dozen each of 6d and 3d wire nails,
and some galvanized tacks (they do not rust the
cloth). A few I -inch wire brads are handy to hang
kettles on pot-hooks, as they do not split the end of
a green stick, but simple notches will do.
When traveling in company through a thickly
wooded region, where the men may have to scatter
to find a trail or a divide, it is good forethought for
each of them to carry a whistle, the army pattern
being a good one. Its note carries better than the
voice, and it saves breath. Have a pre-arranged
code of signals, such as one note: *'I am here," twoi
"Come this way," and so on.
—
Featherweight Kits. ^The outfit already listed
may be considered of medium weight. A heavier
one, for cold weather camping, will be suggested in
Chapter IX. But what is the lightest equip"
ment that will serve for tramping and camping.
!
TRIPS AFOOT 109
decently, in civilized country? Many summei out-

ers who enjoy walking and like to explore out-05-the-
way places are interested in that question.
Well, what would you say of a ready-made
camping outfit that weighs just 7 pounds? Tent,
jointed poles, pegs, ground sheet, sleeping bag, air
pillow, toilet articles, canvas bucket and wash-basin,
spirit stove, cooking utensils —
seven pounds to the
very ounce ;and the whole kit is so compact that
it stows in a light rucksack, or a bicycle pannier,
with room left for spare clothing and such food

as is not bought along the route of travel. Total
burden about 10 pounds, with w^hich the lone pe-
destrian or cycle tourist is independent of hotels and
boarding-houses
I first heard of this campestral marvel in 19 10,
when a young Londoner wrote me for a dimensional
sketch of a tomahawk I had recommended. A
chatty correspondence followed that introduced me
to a new Old World scheme of tent life very dif-
ferent from what I was used to, but one developed
to the last line of refinement and full of canny tricks
of the outers' guild.
For me it was an eye-opener to find the lightest
camp equipments of the world in England, a nation
1 had always associated with one-ton "caravans'*
at home and five-ton "safaris" abroad. Verily here
was the art of open-air life evolved to a type un-
dreamed of in our own country.
Back of this development, I learned, were years
of patient, thoroughgoing experiment by scores of
men and women whose one fad (if it be a fad) was
to perfect a camping kit that should be light, lighter,
lightest, and yet right, righter, rightest. Then it
came to me from faraway years that the father of

modern lightweight camping was not the Yankee
"Nessmuk," but the Scotchman Macgregor, who in
1865, built the first modern canoe, Rob Roy, and
cruised her a thousand miles with no bagêage but
a black bag one foot square and six inches deep. It
was said of Macgregor that he would not willingly
give even a flv deck passage.
I lo CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Featherweight camping in ''civilized" fashion be-
gan with the Rob Roy, progressed with the flotillas
of British and American canoeists who followed its
skipper's example, was refined by the squadrons of
cycle tourists and the pedestrian campers who
scour the highways and byways of all Christendom
in their yearly holidays.
To one w^hose camps have always been pitched
in the wilderness the seven-pound English kit seems
amusingly frail and inadequate. Such a one might
exclaim in mock reverence, as my partner used to
when he caught me modeling some new-fangled
"dingbat": "Greatand marvelous art thy works,
Lord Geeminy Crimlny!" But such an outfit is
not meant for the wilderness. It is for the inde-
pendent vacationist who wants to ramble off the
beaten track, to see what conventional travelers al-
ways miss: the most interesting and picturesque
places and peoples in their own and foreign coun-
tries.
European outfitters have been catering for years
to this class of trade; but what have we done for
it? Precious little. Whoever goes in for that sort
of vacation must either pack around with him twice
as much weight and bulk as there is any sense in,
if he buys his kit ready made, or he must build an
equipment for himself, which few tourists have

either the time or the skill to do. Perhaps, then,
this foreign cult may be worth looking into.
First, the featherweight kit already alluded to. It
was designed by Owen G. Williams, and marketed
by J. Langdon & Sons, Duke St., Liverpool. The
constituent parts, with their weights, and prices
before the war, are given below. If ordered to-
gether the price of complete outfit was £4 4s, or
about $21.00.
SINGLE OUTFIT FOR PEDESTRIAN OR

CYCLING TOURS
Price Weight
"Featherweight" tent complete £1 10 2 8
Ground sheet and pegs for same 4 3 IS
TRIPS AFOOT III
"Comfy" sleeping-bag (eiderdown) .. .2 2 1 4

Compact brush and comb and mirror. 19 2
Japanese rubbered air cushion 16 2
"Compleat" cooking outfit and stove. 3 6 15
Aluminum knife, fork and spoon 14 2
% pint aluminum flask and egg cup...O 2 8 3
Enamelled cup, plate, and mop, per set 9 5
Canvas bucket and wash basin 2 3 6
Pole clips and candle holder 6 2
£4 10 6 7 lbs.
The tent is barely large enough for one man to

sleep in ; 3 feet high, 6 feet long, 3 feet vvîde on the
floor, with front and rear extensions of 32 inches
and 36 inches respectively. It is a modification of
the common "A" or wedge pattern. The doorways
are cut so as to peg out straight in front, affording
an outside windshield for cooking. The back end
is rounded for storage accommodation and to pro-
vide in the worst of weather for cooking without

risk of spilling foodstuff on the ground sheet.
The top, which shields the sleeper, is made of
"swallow-wing," unprocessed but rain-proof. The
bottom portion of the tent is of a lighter material
that helps ventilate, but still is spray-proof. The
tent alone weighs 22 ounces, poles and case 10
ounces, pegs and lines 8 ounces. The tent rolls
into a package 8^
inches long by 4 inches thick.
The poles unjoint to a length of 23 inches.
I am assured that this midget shelter will stand
up overthrows wall tents, mar-
in a hurricane that
quees, and the army bell tent. Enthusiastic camp-
ers use it even in winter, sleeping out without a
fire when the tent sags heavily wnth snow. They
find it satisfactory protection in torrents of gusty
rain so fierce as to wet through acommon tent in
spite of the by driving through the material
fly,
of back or front. It has stood nine months' con-

tinuous service in Canada.
The ground sheet is of a special fawn waterproof
sheeting, 5 feet by 3 feet, eyeletted at each corner,
and with pegs to hold it down.
The
sleeping-bag is shaped narrow at the foot
to save weight and bulk, and is of the old-fashioned
pattern closed with a draw-string. It is stufEed
thinly with eiderdown, the warmest of all known
materials for its weight and (rolled up) bulk. It
has a thin rubbered cover bag, waterproof and wind-
pi oof. For those who dislike the stuffiness of so
small a ''sleeping-pocket" the same outfitters pro-
vided down quilts of two sizes, the foot size, 6x4
with valance, weighing S/i- pounds.
The air-pillow is a Japanese contrivance, in-
ciedibly light and compact. A
reeded form, more
comfortable than the plain oblong one listed with
the set, is 12 x 10 inches, weighs only 2^^ ounces,
and three of them can be carried in a coat pocket
when deflated.
Since the English camper seldom could get wood
for fuel, or permission to make a fire in the open,
he was obliged to carry a miniature stove and some
alcohol or kerosene. In this instance it is an al-
cohol burner of common pad form, which is waste-
ful of spirits, but less likely to get out of order
than an alcohol vapor stove. The cooking outfit
IS made up of two little kettles or deep stew-pans with
handles, a miniature frying-pan, a toaster, a tea-ball,
and the stove, all nesting in the outer kettle, which
has a cover.
Another one-man outfit was designed and is (or
—
was I know not what the war may have done
there) manufactured by that veteran camper and
outdoor writer, T. H. Holding, of 7 Maddox St.,
London, W. It includes the following articles:
Tent 13 ounces
Poles (3) 15
Pegs 10
Ground sheet 10
Ground "blanket" 8
Down quilt 20
Cooking kit 16 "
6 pounds
TRIPS AFOOT 113
The "Wigwam," Mr. Holding calls his tiny

as
tent, is of ordinary "A" shape and is made of
Japanese silk, 5 f t. 1 1 in. long, 4^ ft. wide, and 4 ft.
high, giving sufficient headroom to lounge in com-

fortably. When rolled up it can be carried in an
ordinary pocket. It will be noticed that the poles
and pegs weigh practically twice as much as the
tent itself. This is due partly to the use of shear
poles in front, instead of a single vertical pole,
giving freer entrance and egress, besides supporting
the tent better. A
ridge pole, weighing 10 ounces,
is supplied extra, and is recommended for the sake
of trim setting. The poles are of jointed bamboo,

and the pegs of aluminum, flattened at the ends
instead of pointed, to give a good grip in the ground.
Of the silk tent Mr. Holding says: "Such is its
toughness that I have seen a pair of the strongest
fingers try to tear the material, and fail. For its
weight and thickness it is the most powerful stuff
in the world in the shape of textile goods. I have
put several tents I possess to protracted and severe
tests, and I have never had one to tear. One has
Btood some of the heaviest rains, in fact, records
for thirty hours at a stretch, without letting in wet,
and I say this of an 11 -ounce silk one. . . .
"What, however, silk does not stand well is

friction. As an instance, open your silk umbrella
and look down the folds, half way between each
rib. The parts of a tent, therefore, which show
the wear are at the pegging and head places, where
the fingers touch it in erecting. To this end I
recommend they should not be rolled up, as cotton
fabrics, but rucked, pocket handkerchief.'*
like a
The "Wigwam" is also furnished ready-made in
various other materials, cheaper but heavier than
silk, of which the next lightest is lawn, weighing
I pound 8 ounces.
The ground sheet is of light mackintosh. Over

it goes a little "ground blanket" of thin cashm.ere,
with eyelets at the corners, so that it may be pegged

down. This is not only for the sake of warmth.
but also to save wear on the mackintosh, which has
to be very thin.
Mr. Holding's eiderdown quilt is only to cover
with, not to roll up in. The Wigwam size is 5 ft.
10 in. by 4 ft., to which is added a foot of cloth
valance all around, which is pegged or weighted
down so that the sleeper will not kick off his cover-
ing. These quilts are thinner than the domestic
ones of down, and roll up into remarkably small
compass.
The cooking kit is made of thin copper. It In-
cludes a pad spirit stove with damper and wind-
shield, a boiler 6 inches across, a porridge pan
that fits inside, and a fry-pan that forms a cover
foi the boiler; also a separate handle for the various
pans. The vessels are seamless.
Ofcourse, this six-pound outfit does not include
everything that a hiker requires in camp and on the
march. Mr. Holding gives a list of articles recom-
mended for two pedestrians traveling together:
lbs. oz.
"A" Tent, 6 ft. by 5 ft. 9 in. by 5 ft. 9 in 2
Set of 2 tent poles 1
Set of pegs (ordinary sikewers) 3
Oil stove— "Baby Primus"
—
Aluminum pans "So Soon" pattern
1
1
3
1
Piece of waterproof for tent 2
2 Aluminum cups and saucers (plates) .... 4
2 sets Aluminum knife, fork, spoon 4
Candlestick and candle 2
Aluminum box of soap 1
6 4
The piece of waterproof is two feet square. It is
to roll up the tent in when wet, and serves other-
wise as a wash-basin, seat, etc.
Each man carries half of this company kit, mak-
ing his share 3 pounds 2 ounces. Adding his per-
sonal equipment, his burden becomes:.
lbs. oz.
Share of bag-gage 3 2
Mackintosh coat 1 6
Air pillow 3
TRIPS AFOOT 115
Down pillow (a luxury) 1
Sweater 1
Sleeping- stockings (long ones) 6
Extra walking socks 4
Down quilt 1 10
Thin extra vest (undershirt) 5
Scarf 2
Tooth brush, etc 3
Hold-all with straps (under) 8
9 2
For hiking Instead of cycling, a rucksack should

be substituted for the hold-all. Adding a towel, the
weight, without food, is close to 10 pounds, with
part food 12 pounds.
The "Baby" kerosene vapor stove here listed is
like a regular Primus except that valve is in
Its
different position, the pump set In snugly at the

Is
side. It has rounded cone feet set Inward, and it is

of reduced size, weighing only i pound 3 ounces
instead of 4 pounds. A
still smaller stove of the
same pattern, called the "Pocket Primus," measures

2^ inches deep by 4 inches across, when packed,
and weighs only i pound i ounce.
Another specialty is the "So-Soon" cooking kit.
The lower vessel Is a boiler 3^
by 53^^ inches, the
second is another boiler that fits inside the first,
next Is a stew or porridge pan which, inverted,
makes a covet for the kit on top is the frying-pan,
;
I Inch deep. All of these vessels are of stamped

aluminum. A
separate handle fits all of them. A
"Baby Primus" stove fits Inside the nested pans. The
main boiler tapers narrower at the bottom, so as to
keep the set from rattling when carried about. No
part has any excrescence or projection to obstruct
the packing. The whole set, omitting stove, weighs
T pound 5 ounces.
There Is a smaller "So-Soon" set made for the
"Pocket Primus," which is 3^ by 5^ inches, and
its three vessels weigh only 8 ounces.
Returning to the subject of tents the English out-

:
fitters supply them of many shapes and sizes and

Ti6 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
in various lightweight materials, besides common
tents, of course. It will strike American campers
as peculiar that none of the extra thin materials
used in tents up to 7 x 7 size are subjected to any
waterproofing process whatever. For rain-shed-
ding quality they depend solely, like an umbrella,
upon the closeness with which the textile is woven.
On examining these clothes one is surprised at their
exceeding fineness of texture. Some of the cotton
goods are woven almost twice as fine as our so-called
"balloon silk" or the 4-ounce special Lowell cloth
used for extra-light racing sails on small craft.
The best lawns, etc., are made from Egyptian
cotton, which has a stronger and finer fiber than
American cotton, and is said to be 15 per cent,
stronger. In spite of this, I doubt if any thin, un-
processed tent is really rainproof unless it is stretched
very taut and the occupant takes great pains to
avoid touching it from the inside. In a shelter only
three or four feet high, and wedge-shaped, one can
hardly help rubbing against the interior, and then
will come the drip-drip that we know too well.
Even the rear wall, though vertical, will be rubbed
hy one's pillow in a very short tent, and then, if
rain is driven by the wind, this wall will leak.
The only remedy would be to waterproof the cloth
or use a fly.
There is another objection to extremely thin
tenting material: it requires tighter stretching, and
hence more pegs, than stouter material would, or it
will belly and sag. Moreover, it stretches exces-
sively, and then the poles will no longer fit. Mr.
Holding himself reports that a small tent stretches
from three to nine inches, in service. Waterproof-
ing would prevent nearly all of this, for it is the
alternate tightening and loosening of the cloth from
wetting and drying that makes the fiber of the ma-
terial loosen up.
A feature of some of the English tents that de-
serves copying is the angular extension of lower edge
of door flaps, so that the doors can be pegged out
s
TRIPS AFOOT H7
straight in line with sides of tent,forming wind-
and protection against driving rain when one
shields
wants the door open. Another is that the ground
sheet, instead of being made square or rectangular,
has the sides and rear end cut in segments of a circle,
so as to fit against the walls when they are drawn
outward by sagging of ridge and stretching of sides.
The bedding here described would not suit us at
all. The down sleeping-bag would be too stuffy.
The Holding quilts are so narrow that they can only
be used to cover with, and so the under side of the
body is left unprotected by anything but cold mack-
intosh and a very thin, sheet of cashmere. In Eng-
land, I suppose, taken for granted that the
it is
camper will procure, for each night, a bedding of

straw or hay; but in our country there are many
places, even in "civilization," where the camper
would have to chance it on the bare ground. In
our climate (or climates) wê need more bedding
under than over us, if there is nothing to serve as
mattress.
The English featherweight outfits, although not
adapted to our needs, are very suggestive, and Amer-
ican pedestrian tourists will do well to study them.
(Full details are given in Mr. Holding's Camper
Haridbook^. Not only lightness but compactness
seem to have been brought to an irreducible mini-
mum. For example, there is a complete cycle-camp-
ing outfit for two men, including tent, down quilt,
toilet articles, cooking utensils, etc., that stows in s
bag only 15 x 7 x 7 inches!
Chapter viii
PACKS FOR PEDESTRIANS

The simplest way to carry a light marching kit
is in a blanket roll. It is made up as follows: Spread
the shelter cloth or tent on the ground, fold the
blanket once, end for end, and place it on top,
with same amount of cloth left uncovered at front
and rear. Divide the other equipment into two piles
of equal weight, arrange one of these along one
€nd of blanket, the other along the other end.
Told free sides of shelter cloth over all. Roll the
whole afifair as tightly and smoothly as possible,
and secure with straps or cords, one at middle and
one half-way to either end, making a roll about six
feet long. Then fasten each end tightly with a
slip-knot, leaving enough free cord on each to tie
the ends of the roll together In horse-collar form.
It takes two men to make a neat job of this.
The roll is worn over one shoulder with end?
over opposite hip. Some pedestrians like the blanket
roll because it saves the expense and weight of a
pack-sack or harness, and because it can be shifted
from one side to the other. In reality nothing is
gained in ease of carrjÎng, but rather the contrary.
All the weight is thrown on one shoulder at a time,
and there is no help from the hips. man canA
carry a heavier load In a pack-sack with less fatigue
in the long run.
The blanket roll is oppressive in hot weather, and
its pressure on the chest Is a handicap at all times.
It is much In the way when one has to climb
or crawl, and even more so when you go to shoot.
It will not hold half the equipment mentioned in
n8
:
TACKS FOK PEDESTRIANS 119
my summer list, and if a haversack is added, you

have a particularly irksome "flip-flop" to impede
you, and the "advantage" of shifting weights is
then lost. A
blanket roll is suitable only for a
day's hike and a one-night camp ; even so, it is much
less comfortable than a light pack on one's back.
—
Pack Harness. I leave out of account simple
tump lines and the like, because they are practical
only for canoeists carrying heavy burdens across
portages.
A pack harness is an
arrangement of straps
for carrying an outfit
made up into a bundle
inside the blanket, or
for toting two duffel
bags strapped side by
side. The illustration
(Fig. 23) shows one
with tump or head-band
added. If bags are not
used, the bundle must
be wrapped in a pack
cloth of strong water-
proof canvas (the tent
or shelter cloth will Fig, 23. —
Pack Harness
not do, for it needs pro- with Head Strap
tection from rough usage). As to this method of
packing I quote from the book on Winter Camp-
ing (Outing Handbooks) by Warwick S. Car-
penter, who has had more experience with It than I
"The arrangement that I have frequently used is

that of the pack cloth, with the outfit and blankets
or sleeping bag folded inside. flexibility
Its for
various sizes of load commend strongly, and the
it
pack cloth may be used as shelter iDesides, or as a
ground cloth in a lean-to or tent. The method of
making this pack is to lay the pack cloth on the
ground and place the blankets or sleeping bag folded
once on top of the cloth. Place the outfit as com-
pactly as possible on the blankets or bag and fold
it tightly in, making; the bundle . . . consider-
ably longer than it is wide and thick. Then takts
the end of the pack cloth which runs along the
bottom of the pack, and bend it up over the folded
bundle. Next take the sides of the pack cloth and
fold them over, or if there is) much cloth, roll the
whole pack over from side to side, keeping every-
thing snug and tight.
This will leave the bottom of the pack cloth folded
inside and the sides of the cloth lapping all around
so that no snow or wet will sift in at the bottom.
Fold the still open top down as a flap, just as you
would the end of a paper package, with the folded
flap at the side of the pack away from the back. Pass
a rope or a strap lengthwise around the whole and
then attach the harness with its shoulder straps or
tump line. Such a pack is absolutely secure against
snow or rain.
The best form of pack-harness is that which is
made with a broad shoulder piece shaped like a
sailor's collar, the wide bands of which run well
over the shoulders and about eight inches down in
frbnt. From the back of the collar, about five inches
apart, two vertical straps run downward about fifteen
inches to the small of the back and bend up under
the arms to meet the broad bands in front. There
they are fastened with buckles, and the straps are
made long enough to permit considerable taking up
or letting out. Riveted horizontally to the straps
behind, one at the height of the collar piece and the
other fifteen inches lower, are two straps six feet
long, which go around the pack. This harness may
be bought of any dealer in camping outfits, but the
collar portion of all that I have seen is made of
heavy canvas. This very quickly wrinkles and draws
up and cuts the shoulders. It is far better to have
it made of a very heavy piece of leather.
One of these that I put together myself has been
used for years and the broad bands that go over the
shoulders are still as smooth and comfortable as
when new. To the back of the collar should be
riveted two short straps about six inches long, ex-
tending upward, as the others go downward. To
these can be buckled a broad tump which goes over
the forehead. It will be adjustable with the buckles
or can be removed entirely."
The chief merit of this kind of packis its adapt-
ability to any or shape of bundle.

size On the
other hand, the weig;ht of harness and pack cloth
S')eethev ("U-â to 5 pounds) is considerably more
PACKS FOR PEDESTRIANS 121
than that of a roomy pack-sack. True, the cloth

can be used as a ground sheet under the blanket at
night, but that is not needed if one has a sleeping-
bag, or a browse-bag (and rubber cape to go over
it when things are wet) which weighs but a pound
and makes a far better bed. Pack cloths are made

fiom 5 X 6 to 6 X 7 feet, which is too small for a
shelter cloth. Another disadvantage is that when-
ever you want to get at anything in the pack, the
whole thing must be undone and repacked.
The tump or head-band is a good addition not
only to a pack harness but to almost any other kind
of pack used for carrying heavy weights. General-
ly it wnll not be used until the shoulders tire; then
it relieves the strain. It is an advantage in climb-
ing steep hillsides. When fording a swift stream,
crossing on a foot-log or fallen tree, going over
v/indfalls, crossing ice, or passing other dangerous
places, the shoulder straps may be dropped, the head-
strap alone being emplo3Td then, if you slip or get
;
overbalanced, the load can be cast off instantly by

throwing back the head, and you save your bones
or possibly your life. When the tump is not in use,
drop it down over the chest.
—
Military Knapsacks. In most European
armies the infantry carry small knapsacks made of
leather, stiffened with a framework of wood or bam-
boo, or reinforced at the sides to give a certain
rigidity. Inside the knapsack are stowed spare un-
dervvear, fatigue shoes (if any), a reserve ration,
spare ammunition, and various small articles. The •
blanket, or overcoat, is rolled tightly in a shelter

half and strapped around the top and sides, and a
mess kettle generally is strapped on the outside. In
some models, as the German, the interior is divided
into compartments to separate and protect the dif-
ferent articles and to assure a constant distribution
of the weight.
A military knapsack
too small for campers, it
is
IS much too heavy forsize, and it obliges the

its
wearer to carry most of his outfit outside, attached

to or strapped separately to the person.
it, Such an
airangement is bad, for various reasons. Ablanket
roll strapped around the outside does not fit well
on a soft sack. The knapsack must be stiff, there-
fore heavy, and it must be narrow, or the complete
pack will project too much beyond the shoulders,
worrying the bearer by preventing the free swing
of his arms, and proving a serious obstacle when
he has to go through the matted undergrowth of a
forest. Besides, the blanket is needed as a soft
pad against one's back. If worn on the outside, it
must be protected by something. A
thin tent or
shelter cloth will not do, because it, too, needs
protection against snags and abrasion. If a poncho
or cape is used for the purpose, it must be a heavy
one, to stand the wear, whereas it should be light
from every other consideration and your waterproof
;
is best carried where you can get at it and don it
quickly.
As for "flip-flops" and "stick-outs" in your equip-
ment, they are anathema. Suppose you have to cross
a stream or a deep gulley on a fallen tree. If there
is a dangling article about you, such as a haversack,
it will swing to one side and tend to throw you off
balance. If anything sticks out of your pack, or is

tied on the outside of it, the thing will everlastingly
be catching in vines and 'bushes. Taking it day in
and day out, in all kinds of country, the best pack
13 a commodious sack on your back that contains
everything you carry except what goes in your pock-

ets and in one hand.
The soft canvas knapsack formerly used by our
own army has no compartments save a narrow out-
side pocket, under the flap, and is not stiffened. It is
cheap (from dealers in second-hand military equip-
ments), very strong, and serviceable as a carryall for
one's personal duffel aside from shelter and bedding.
This pattern, like most other military ones, is ill-
suited to carrying heavy loads, because the points
of suspension of the shoulder straps fsee Fig. 24,
A J B) are too near the outer edge of the knapsack
—
and consequently drag on the weakest part of the
shoulders, next to the arms. The strain should
come nearer the neck,
where the vertebral
column will help to
support it.
Old types of knap-

sacks had the straps
crossed over the breast
— about the worst
arrangement that
could be devised, since
it compresses the bear-
er's chest and inter-

feres wnth his breath-
ing. A horizontal
strap across the chest
to keep shoulder straps Fig. 24.— Old U.S.A. Knap-
from spreading is like- sack (back). A. B. points of
wise oppressive, and suspension
bothersome because it must be unbuckled before the
knapsack can be cast off.
*RUCKSACKS.
From time im-
memorial the cham-
ois hunters of the
Alps have used a
simple but ingen-
ious pack sack for
carrying light kits
and game. This Is
called a rucksack.
It is to-day the fa-
vorite packing de-
vice of European
Fig 25.-Rucksack with Îpjnists and ped-
Flap
estrian tourists, IS
much used as a game bag, and, of late years, has
^Rucksack is a German word meaning "back-sacK." In English

the umlaut sign (two dots over u) is dropped and the pro-
nunciation changed so thcit ruck rhymes with stuck.
{24 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
come into vogue our country for light mountain-
in
eering and for walking trips in settled regions. In
tourists' patterns the opening is protected from dust
and rain by a flap (Fig. 25), and one or two covered
pockets may be added on the outside (Fig. 27) for
such articles as may be wanted from time to time
on the way. In its original form the rucksack is
sketched in Fig. 26, which shows an open-mouthed
bag of light cloth closed by a puckering cord.
The rucksack is
distinguished from
all other packs by
the method of at-
taching its shoulder
straps, which swing
directly from the
puckering cord at
the top, and are fast-
ened below by tog-
gles, hooks, OT
buckles. (Fig. 25
shows another fast-
ening by a cord tj^-
ing into the shoulder
strap with a looped
knot; this is easily
and a tug
adjustable,
at the end of the
cord will loosen the
pack instantly).
The point of sus-
pension, then, is in
the center of the
sack's top, instead of
near the upper cor-
Fig. 26. —
Plain Rucksack
ners as on a military
(after Payne-Gallwey)
knapsack. This
brings the strain over the strongest part of the
shoulders, where it is least felt.
Since the rucksack is made of light cloth, with
no stiffening, it is very caoacious for its weieht: one
chat holds half a bushel can be rolled up and tucked

into the pocket of hunting coat. When filled
a
with spare clothing and such other articles as would
be carried by one who went afoot through well
settled districts and put up for the night at inns or
farmhouses, the weight of such a pack is hardly
noticeable. On the hike, one's coat or cape, rolled
up, may be carried under the flap. The plain ruck-
sack, wîthout flap, iseasy to get into, since all you
have to do is to pull one end of the puckering cord
and the bag is wide open : this makes it handy as a
game bag. The wêight, being carried low and tight

against the body, does not tend to overbalance one
in difficult climbing a point — of consequence to
mountaineers.
But the rucksack is a poor
device for carrying such a kit
as is required by one who
sleeps out and totes his bed
and shelter with him. Its
contents bunch up into a
rounded lump (see Fig. 27),
and heavy articles work to
the bottom. Everything gets
jumbled up. Worse still, the*
pack "rides" so low that it
presses hard against the small
of the back, which is the
worst of all places to put a
27. — Rucksack
in Use
strain on.
I tried out the rucksack thoroughly,
years ago,
It a good contrivance for carrying the day's necesi
is
sities when you are reasonably sure of reaching a

house or camp at night, being never in the way
like a haversack or blanket-roll, yet more capacious.
The one illustrated in Fig. 25, made of thin brown
waterproof canvas, 21 inches wide by 22 inches high,
weighs 12 ounces. Another outfitter supplies one of
about the same size, in waterproofed olive-drab cloth,
with an outside pocket, that weighs only 9 ounces.
One of these is an excellent carrier ior a ieathep
weight camping kit, but for packs of over 15 pounds,
I will have none of it.
An interesting modification of the rucksack, which
brings the weight where it can best be borne, is the
Norwegian army pack sack (Figs. 28, 29). In
this the sack is united to a support of oak or ash,
which comprises a horizontal wooden crosspiece {A )
and two vertical pieces {B, C) curved to fit the back.
Bag and frame are joined at the bottom by two
rings, which are sewed on leather bands and at-
tached to the horizontal piece of wood, at one end
Fig. 28. —
Norwegian Fig.29.—Norwegian
Knapsack in Use Knapsack (Back)
by a spring placed on the traverse, and at the other

by an eyebolt. At the top they are joined by a
strap, one part of which is sewed on the middle of
the back of the knapsack, the other, or free part,
being passed through a slit made in the upper part
of the support, and bent back and buttoned on
itself.
The slings of the knapsack draw from the center,

as in a rucksack, but are attached to a small arch-
shaped brass piece riveted to the upper part of the
support. Their free ends have hooks which engage
In the eyes of eyebolts fixed at each end of the lower
traverse of the frame. On each sling, at the height
of the armpit, there Is a double button on which is
fixed a counter sling furnished with a brass hook-
which latter is hooked to the belt from the under

side, helping support cartridge pouches. The
to
knapsack is 173^ inches high, 143^ inches wide, and
weighs 3^ pounds. I have seen lighter ones made
for civilians. The lower crosspiece rests above the

hips, on the pelvis, which, the designer says, "is the
most suitable part of our framework to support
burdens." The shoulder straps have little more
to do than keep the pack against the back.
Fig. 30. —Tourist Knap- Fig. 31. —Nessmuk Pack

sack (back) Sack
Another and lighter way of stiftening a knapsack

is to reinforce the sides and insert pieces of cane
vertically in small pockets on the back (Fig. 30).
This also allows air to circulate between the pack
and the bearer's back, preventing excessive sweating.
(When our old army knapsack was wôrn, in sum-
mer, men would sweat clear through the heavy can-
vas). The tourist's knapsack here illustrated is
pliable and yet has enough rigidity to maintain a
neat form. Of course, it is not suitable for carry-
ing a heavy weight. In this case the slings are
suspended centrally from a D-ring {A in the ngure).
A handle like that of a shawl-strap is provided,
so that the knapsack may be carried like a satchel
when one is in town. Straps on top are provided to
carry the coat or cape.
—
Pack Sacks. I use this term specifically to de-
note sacks that are roomy enough to take inside
a whole outfit for the pedestrian or canoeist who
camps out. It would be a waste of space to de-
scribe half the patterns that are listed by outfitters,
as there are so many that are ill-designed. Three
examples that have good "points" will suffice:
The so-called "Nessmuk" pack sack (he did not
design it) is shown in Fig. 31. It is made of
medium-weight brown waterproof canvas. The bag
has boxed sides that taper from about 5 inches width
at bottom to 3 inches at top (not shown in illus-
tration) and it is about 3 inches narrower at the
top than at the bottom. To the top edge of the
bag proper is sewed a throat piece like that of a
duffel bag. When the bag has been packed, this
throat piece is gathered together and tied like the
mouth of a grain sack, so as to exclude water. You
may take a header while fording a streami, or cap-
size your canoe, without getting water inside the
pack. The extension also allows the sack to be
packed fuller than normal, so that when carried the
pack rises as high as one's collar. It is somewhat
in the way when one is making up his pack, but,
when tied, there is no risk of losing anything out of
the bag.
This pack sack carries higher, and hence more
comfortably, than a rucksack. It will contain a
li.8;ht camping equipment, say one of twenty pounds.
The slings draw from the center, but are some-

what over 2 Inches apart at top of pack, and so
do not pucker the bag so much, nor throw Its top
so far backward, as if they drew straight from a
D-rlng.
The common pattern of "Nessmuk" pack has light
web shoulder straps, which are an unmitigated nuis-
ance: they wrinkle up and cut like ropes. Get
the better grade with leather straps. I have one
of this kind, 20 Inches wide by 15 Inches high,
that weighs 2 pounds 2 ounces. It would be better
If the throat piece were a couple of Inches longer.
The buckle for the flap strap should be placed as
high as the upper hole of the strap. There Is a
similar sack 5 x 16 x 18 Inches, with an outside
pocket almost the size of the face of the pack, which,
^^'th leather slings, weighs only 24 ounces.
For regular packing, when one sleeps out, the

best pack sack at a moderate price that I know of
is what is known as the Duluth, or, from its in-
ventor, the Poirier pattern (Fig 32). Originally-

made for trappers, timber cruisers, and other pro-
fessional woodsmen, it is now used by many
sportsmen as well. The Duluth sack has no boxed
sides, but is sewed up in the form of a simple bag^
and so is made wider and higher than boxed ones of
equal capacity.
32.— Duluth Pack Fig. 33.— Whelen Pack

Sack Sack
Theadvantage is that one's blanket, which goes

in as a pad for the back, can be folded two
first,
feet square, or a little more, and consequently in

fewer thicknesses hence the bag packs flatter than a
;
boxed one and does not bulge so far backward at

the top. Poirier makes his pack sacks in three
grades: (A) 12-oz. duck, heavy grain leather
shoulder straps and canvas head strap, all straps and
buckles fastened with copper rivets and burrs; (B)
lo-oz. duck, canvas shoulder and head straps; (C)
lo-oz. duck, canvas shoulder straps, no head strap.
By all means get the A grade, as canvas slings will
:

wrinkle when wet and cut the shoulders. The
standard sizes and weights, in A grade, are as
follows
No. 1. 24 X 26 inches. 2% lbs.
No. 2. 26 X 28 inches. 2^/4 lbs.
No. 3. 28 X 30 inches. 2^ lbs.
For a pedestrian the No. i or No. 2 is large

enough. A canoeist will find one of the larger
ones ample to hold all the duffel for a single-
handed and a week's provisions; but if he
cruise,
chooses to carry more on the outside, then, when he
comes to a portage, the surplus articles can be piled
on top ot the pack, the head strap will be put to use,
and he can tote as much as with a tump line, or
more, because the shoulders assist.
The shoulder straps of the Duluth sack start from
a common center, where they are riveted to an in-
side piece of leather. They fork from between one's
shoulder blades like a pair of suspenders. The flap
is hilf as long as the sack, and it is fitted with three
long straps whereby the sack may be adjusted snug-

ly to a large or small load. As the sack has a wide
mouth, it is easy to pack and to get into. The
three straps hold down the flap closely at the cor-
ners as well as in the center, and so keep out rain
and snow and prevent things spilling out. There
is no throat piece; but a wise woodsman stows his
perishables in light waterproof bags, anyway.

The pack designed by Captain Townsend
Whelen. U. S. A., has an ingenious arrangement
for regulating the size of the bag according to w^hat
is carried. It consists of a many-gored bag (Fig.
33), about 18 inches wide by 22 inches long with-
out the gores. The bag can be let out enough to
carry a small deer, feet up, or, by means of a strap
that goes around it from top to bottom, it can be
triced up, gores folded Inside, until there Is nothing
of It but a little knapsack for carrying one's daily
equipment. There are two roomy pockets on the
outside, one of them, for the camera, made so that
no water can get into it. The arrangement of

straps is such that put on them in-
all the strain is
stead of on the canvas. Made of 12-oz. waterproof
khaki duck, the Whelen pack sack weighs 2^
pounds.
Combination Pack Sacks. Since "an ounce —
in the morning is a pound before night" when
one goes afoot, and "a mile uphill is five on the
level," many ingenious contrivances have been de-
vised to make one article in the outfit serve two or
more purposes. So we have various combinations
of pack and tent, pack and sleeping-bag, pack and
stretcher-bed, and so forth. Though I do not go so
far as the old-timer who averred that "all combina-
tion tricks are pizen," yet I am apt to be rather shy
of them. An article can serve two purposes, but it
can't do them both at the same time, and in either
case it is likely to be a makeshift.
If a pack does not "ride" just right, or if it is not
easy to fill and easy to get into at any time, it is
faulty. If the or the sleeping-bag, or the
tent,
stretcher-bed, is from what it should be to
altered
accommodate it to some other use, it is vexatious.
Most of these inventions defeat their own purpose
by being almost, if not quite, as bulky and heavy as
the separate articles would be if made right. For
instance, you can use a sleeping-bag as a pack to
stow your duffel in, but to carry it you must have a
harness of some sort, and that harness will weigh
over a pound. I would rather tote an extra pound
and have a pack sack, for it is so much more con-
venient. The notion that a sack is good for nothing
in camp is wrong; you need a receptacle for every-
thing that is not in present use, lest things get
scattered and lost. Or, if long training has made
you habitually careful in such a matter, you may
do with that sack as 1 often do turn it inside out,
;
stuff it with dry leaves, put it under your filled pil-

low-bag, and sleep with your head comfortably
high.
Pack Baskets. — In the forests of the northe^**-
132 CAMPING AJND WOODCRAFT
ern states and in the maritime provinces of Canada,
a favorite carrier is the pack basket, made smaller
at the top than at the bottom, flattened on the back,

and provided with a cover. An average size is
about 1 8 inches high, 17 inches wide at the bottom
and 15 at the top, by about 12 inches deep. Various
sizes can be bought from outfitters in the cities,
who also supply them with waterproof canvas covers
(Fig. 34). One of the latter kind, holding 1^4
bushels, weighs 4^
pounds. A
larger one, 18^
inches high by 18 by 14^ inches, weighs 7 pounds;
Fig. 34. — Pack Basket Fig. 35. —

Abercrombie
(covered) Pack Frame
it fastens with lock-buckle and strap. Uncovered

baskets weigh from 2^
to 5 pounds, according to
size. Common ones generally are too small at the
top for easy stowage of bulky articles; but if the
basket is made more than 12 inches deep it will
drag back unmercifully on the shoulders.
To my notion, the best that can be said of the
pack basket is that it is a bully thing in which to
—
carry canned and bottled goods ^when some other
fellow does the toting. It is too heavy, too abras-
ive, and too bothersome in the brush and thickets,
for average foot travelers, and it does not stow so
well in a canoe as a pack sack of equal capacity.
—
Pack Frames. The far Northwest has another
PACKS FOR PEDESTRlANli i33
"human beast of burden" the pack

pet rig for the :
consists of two
frame. In its simplest form this
slightly flaring pieces of wood

jomed by
vertical or
covered with a
cross-bars near the top and bottom,
on one side with broad
sheet of canvas, and fitted
the shoulders, on the other
with straps
straps for
One model
ropes, or thongs, for tying on
the load.
back, near the bot-
ha« a little skeleton shelf on
the
this shelf being fitted
tom, for the pack to rest on,
be folded down
with hinged metal supports so it can
when not
in use. Such a frame leaves an air space
so does not sweat
between the body and the pack, and
the carrier's back like a knapsack.
A load of any
^
fixed on it. The weight

size or shape can easily be
and divided between should-
Is comfortably balanced
ers and hips. upright pieces of wood are ot

The
support the whole
such length that their lower ends
to rest, as on a log,
load when the man sits down
for instance. . .
.
pack trames,
Figure 35 shows a new Invention in
and
by D T. Abercromble. In this the frame,
quite away from the
consequently the load, is kept
joined to a hip strap
lower part of the back, being
each side, i here
by a rod with horizontal arm on
Heavy
is tump strap, as well as shoulder straps.
a
contrivance, and,
weights can be carried with this
Irregular the load may be,
no matter how hard or
it cannot hurt the
back. The frame complete
weighs only 2>^ pounds.
ordinary pedes-
Pack frames are not suitable for
such merit lor port-
trian trips, of course, but have
sharp-cornered baggage
aging heavy and hard or
that I mention them here,
while on the subject of
packing on human backs and shoulders. ^
hard
Canteens.— One may travel where wateris
the case in a timbered
to find, though this seldom is
region. The best canteen Is one of aluminum
old-fashioned
which neither leaks nor rusts like the
cover with
tin affairs. It should have a canvas
cools
felt lining. the feU is wet Its moisture
When
evaporation, i he can-
the vâter In the canteen bv
vas cover prevents too rapid evaporation,
and keeps
the canteen from wetting one's clothing.
At night
or in case of illness, the thing
can be used as a
hot-water bottle, the insulation keeping
the water
hot for a considerable time. The best
pattern is the
present regulation army canteen, which
is shaped like
a fiat flask, but with one side rounded
a little and
the other concaved to fit the body.
It has a flat
bottom, so you can stand it up.
The aluminum
screw-cap, held by a chain, cannot
jolt out like the
corks of common canteens.
To cleanse the vessel, boil it. To sterilize sus-
pected water, fill the naked canteen
and place it
unstoppered, on the fire till the water
army model holds one
boils. The
quart, and weighs ii ounces
It can be bought from some
outfitters, either with
or without an aluminum cup
that fits over the
bottom. It is rigged to carry on the
belt, where
It will not flop nor
pound the wearer. To draw
It from cover, turn two little thumb-screw
Its
fast-
eners half a turn, and you can
whisk it out almost
as easily as you would a pistol.
Aluminum is not fit to carry liquor in; but,
for
that matter, neither is tin. One of my old partners
and I, on a voyage to the Arkansas
swamps, once
hit upon what we conceived to
be a brilliant scheme
tor transporting a gallon of whiskey
inconspicuously
in our John-boat. (You know whiskey warms the
hearts of otherwise disobliging
natives—yes in-
deedy). We
got a new kerosene can, had a tinner
remove the spout and solder a patch
of tin over if
then in went Old Taylor. We
didn't open that can
tor a week (hadn't seen any
natives) Then along
.
came the dickens of a cold rain, and,

when it ceased,
we declared an 'emergency." Well, what do you
think.'' hat whiskey had turned as black
I
as ink.
l^Gtztausend hirnmel donnerwetter!
or words to that
etlect If anybody doubts that we
didn't open that
stuff for a week, I refer
him to S. D. Barnes, cap-
tain of said John-boat, of
which I was crew
In mountaineering ft often happens that one plans
PACKS FOR PEDESTRIANS i35
to carry
to camp on or near the summit, and wants
from some head sprmg, to save a
water with him
long climb down after it. Alarge canteen would
be cumbersome. A
half-gallon rubber water-bottle
solves the problem. It weighs less than a pound

pack. in cold
and takes up little room in the
with hot water, may
weather, such a bottle, filled
the weight and bulk of an extra
save pj^cking
blanketo
CHAPTER IX
HOW TO WALK—A HUNTER'S PACK-
GOING ALONE
In walking through a primitive forest, an Indian
or a white woodsman can wear out a town-bred
athlete, although the latter may be the stronger man.
This is because a man who is used to the woods has
a knack of walking over uneven and slippery ground,
edging through thickets, and worming his way amid
fallen timber, with less fret and exertion than one
who is accustomed to smooth, unobstructed paths.
—
How TO Walk. ^There is somewhat the same
difference between a townsman's and a woodsman^'^
gait as there is between a soldier's and a sailor's.
It it chiefly a difference of hip action, looseness of
joints, and the manner of planting one's feet. The
townsman's stride is an up-and-down knee action,
with rather rigid hips, the toes pointing outward,
and heels striking first. The carriage is erect, the
movement springy and graceful, so long as one is
—
walking over firm, level footing but beware the
banana-peel and the small boy's sliding-place This
!
is an ill-poised gait, because one's weight falls first
upon the heel alone, and at that instant the walker

has little command of his balance. It is an ex-
hausting gait as soon as its normally short pace is
lengthened by so much as an inch.
A woodsman, on the contrary, walks with a roll-
ing motion, his hips swaying an inch or more to the
stepping side, and his pace is correspondingly long.
This hip action may be noticed to an exaggerated
degree in the stride of a professional pedestrian but ;
the latter walks with a heel-and-toe step, whereas

HOW TO WALK 137
an Indian's or sailor's step is more nearly flat-footed.

In the latter case the center of gravity is covered by
the whole foot. The poise is as secure as that of a
rope-walker. The toes are pointed straight forward,
or even a trifle inward, so that the inside of the heel,
the outside of the ball of the foot, and the smaller
toes, all do their share of work and assist in balanc-
ing. Walking in this manner, one is not so likely,
over projecting roots, stones, and other
either, to trip
traps, as he would be if the feet formed hooks by
pointing outward. The necessity is obvious in snow-
shoeing.
A fellow sportsman, H. G. Dulog, once re-
marked: "If the Indian were turned to stone while
in the act of stepping, the statue would probably
stand balanced on one foot. This gait gives the
limbs great control over his movements. He is al-
ways poised. If a stick cracks under him it is be-
cause of his weight, and not by reason of the im-

pact. He goes silently on, and with great economy
of force. . . His steady balance enables him to
.
put his moving foot down as gently as you would

lay an egg on the table."
There is another advantage in walking with toes
pointing straight ahead Instead of outward: one
gains ground at each stride. I have often noticed
that an Indian's stride gains in this manner, as well
as from the rolling motion of the hips. The white
man acquires this habit, if he ever gets it, but an
Indian is molded to it in the cradle. If you ex-
amine the way In which a papoose is bound to its
cradle-board, this will be made clear. Immediately
after birth the Infant Is stretched out on the board,
its bowlegged little limbs are laid as straight as
possible, and the feet are placed exactly perpen-

dicular and close together before being swaddled.
Often the squaw removes the bandages and gently
drags and works on the baby's limbs and spine to
make them as straight as possible. Then, in reband-
aglng, care is always taken that the toes shall point
straight forward.
The woodsman walks with a springy knee action.
There a "give" at eveiy step, and in going down-
is
hill the knees are bent a good deal, as they are when
one carries a heavy burden. It is said of the Indian
"he does not walk, he glides.'* No Indian glides
in boots, but put him in moccasins and the word
does express his silent, rhythmical, tireless, sure-
footed progress, an admirable example of precision
of movement and economy of effort. A
white man
acquires somewhat the same glide after getting used
to moccasins, and especially after some experience
on snowshoes, which compel him to walk with toes
pointed straight ahead or a little inward.
—
Over-Strain. ^When carrying a pack on your
back, do not over-exert yourself. Halt whenever
your breathing is very labored or exertion becomes
painful. Nobody who understands horses would
think of driving them ahead when they show signs
of distress, and there is quite as much common sense
in treating yourself with the same consideration, if
you want Rig your pack at the start
to travel far.
so it can be flung off whenever you sit down for a
moment's rest; it pays. But don't halt more than
three to five minutes. Long halts eat up daylight;
they stiffen the muscles; and they cause chills and
colds. Over-exertion is particularly disastrous in
mountain climbing.
Not only in marching but in other labors, go
steadily but moderately. Do
not chop to the point
of exhaustion, nor strain yourself in lifting or carry-
ing. A
feat of "showing off" is poor compensation
for a lame back.
One who is unused to long marches may get along
pretty well the first day, but on the second morning
it will seem as if he could not drag one foot after
the other. This is the time when the above remarks

<lo not apply for if one uses the gad and goes ahead
;
he will soon limber up. But by the morning of

the third day it is likely that complications will
have set in. The novice by this time is worn, not
only from unaccustomed exertion, but from loss of
HOW TO WALK 139
sleep — for few men the first night or

sleep well
two in the open. He
probably constipated from
is
change of diet, and from drinking too much on the

march. More serious still, he probably has sore
feet. This latter ailment is not so much due to his
feet being tender at the start as from his not having
taken proper care of them. Aside from the down-
right necessity of seeing that one's shoes and stock-
ings fit well, and that the shoes are well broken
in before starting, there are certain rules of pedes-
trian hygiene that should be observed from the word
"go."
Care of the Feet. —"An ounce of prevention
is worth a pound of cure." I have already said
a good deal about the choice of shoes and stockings
(Vol. L, Chapter IX). Let me add another rea-
son for wearing heavy but soft woolen socks when
you are in the wilderness, regardless of season they ;
ventilate the shoes. You probably will be wearing

rather heavy shoes coated with some waterproofing
preparation. The pores of the leather are filled so
that no air can get through. But one's feet can-
not be kept in good condition if the shoes are not
ventilated somehow. Thick socks do it in this way:
when your weight is thrown on one foot as in step-
ping forward, the air that was confined in the
meshes of the fabric is forced out through the shoe
tops (but not through a high laced boot) ; then,
when the pressure is relieved, fresh air is sucked back
to the partial vacuum.
fill Thin socks, especially
cotton ones, become saturated with perspiration, and
littleor no air can get into them at all: then the
feet have their pores clogged and they become ten-
der. Thin hose also admit sand and dirt more read-
ily than thick ones.
One's feet can be toughened and hardened before
starting on a hike by soaking them for some time,
the night before, in a solution of alcohol and salt,
or in one made by dissolving a tablespoonful of
tannic acid in a wash-bowl of cold water. (Amer'
ican Red Cross Text-Book on First Aid.) A
little
alum m water mav be substituted.
uo CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Every morning before starting on a hike, rub
some talcum powder over the feet and dust some
inside your shoes. One's underwêar should also
be dusted with it where the garments
at all places
are likely to chafe. If you have no talcum, then
rub the feet with vaseJine, melted tallow from a
candle, or oil. Soap often is used for the purpose,
but some soaps contain too much free alkali, w^hich
is bad for the skin; Castile or Ivory soap is not
objectionable.
But the main thing is to keep the feet clean.
Wash them well every evening, preferably in hot

salted water. If they are strained, swollen, or
hot, the best treatment is to rub them with alcohol
or whiskey, but hot salted water and massage will
do very well. Keep the nails cut close and square.
If the feet are washed in the morniag, or when
resting on the march, it should be done briskly,
not by soaking, and they should be thoroughly dried,
otherwise they will be tender. In winter, if water
is hard to get, the feet may be cleansed by rubbing
them with snow.

Should you step in water over your shoe-tops, or
in any other way get the feet sopping wet, stop as
soon as you can and wring out the hose do not ;
"walk them dry," for that makes the skin tender.

As soon as a blister is discovered, it should be
opened i?i the right way, so that the skin may not
be rubbed off and infection ensue. Sterilize a needle
by holding it in the flame of a match. When it
has cooled, prick the blister, not directly, but through
the skin at the side, and gently press out the fluid
till the blister is flat. Then put a light pledget of
absorbent cotton on it, or a little square of sterilized
gauze, and over this strap a bit of adhesive plaster,
A second similar strap may be stuck on top of this
in the opposite direction. Such a dressing keeps the
skin from rubbing off, prevents infection, and en-
ables you to travel on without inconvenience. A
raw blister is treated in the same way, but a little
Resinol or carbolized vaseline smeared on it with
ijlOW TO WALK 141
a clean splinter, before the pad Is applied, will help

it to heal.
When walking long distances, it is a wise plan to
change feet with one's socks at noon.
Cramps in the leg muscles are best treated by-
massage.
—
Thirst. In warm weather, one's first few days
on the march will bring an inordinate thirst, w^hich
is not caused by the stomach's demand for water,
but by a fever of the palate. This may be relieved

somewhat by chewing a green leaf, or by carrying
a smooth, non-absorbent pebble in the mouth; but
a much Detter thirst-quencher is to suck a prune
or carry a bit of raw onion in the mouth. One
can go a long time without drinking if he has an
onion with him; this also helps to prevent his lips
from cracking in alkali dust.
Drink as often as you please, but only a sup or
two at a time. Sip slowly, so as not to chill the
stomach. If one drinks till he no longer feels
thirst, he is likely to suffer first from "cotton
mouth," and then from the cramp of acute indi-
gestion.
Never try to satisfy thirst by swallowing snow
or ice; melt the snow first by holding it In the
mouth. no fire can be had. It Is best to eat a
If
cracker or something with It, as snow water is bad on

an empty stomach.
—
To Avoid Chill. ^Wear a woolen undershirt
(woolen gauze for summer). Do not sit around
when overheated and damp from perspiration, un-
less you have a sweater or extra wrap of some sort
to put on. Do the same when reaching the top
of a mountain, or other place exposed freely to
the wind. But do not muffle up on the march.
—
Mountain Climbing. The city man's gait, to
which I have already referred, is peculiarly ex-
hausting In mountain-climbing. He Is accustomed
tc spring from the toe of the lower foot, in going
uphill. That throws nearly the whole weight of
the body upon the muscles of the calf of the ler;.
:

a misadjustment of strain that would soon wear I
out even a native mountaineer. The latter walks
uphill with a woodsman's gait, planting the whole
foot on the ground, and swinging or rolling the
hip at each stride, thus not onlv gaining an inch or
two in his pace, but distributing the strain between
several groups of muscles. When going downhill,
bend the knees considerably so that the leg forms a
sprmg to land on at each stride.
In Dent's iVlountaineering are given some useful
hints to climbers that I take the liberty of con-
densing here
In walking up a steep hilt, go slowly and steadily.

If you cannot talk v^tho-ut catching your breath, it
is a sure sign that you are going too fast.
If you slip on a loose stone, do not try to recover
your lost ground quickly, but slip away until your
foot is checked a few inches below. Thus keep up
the rhythm of your footfall.
On an average mountain, where the slope is toler-
ably uniform, and the climber has no long journey
before him, an ascent of 1,000 ft. in an hour is quick
walking. In beginning a long cHmb, 800 ft. of verti-
cal ascent in an hour is good work. On a good
trail,for a moderate distance, 1,500 ft. an hour is
quick walking. Under favorable conditions a good
climber can ascend from a height of 7.000 ft. to
14,000 ft. in seven hours; at greater altitudes the pace
will slacken.
In descending a mountain, the pace, however slow,
should be continuous. To remain stationary, even
for a moment, not only necessitates a fresh start, but
demands an adjustment of balance which implies an
unnecessary outlay of muscular effort. To descend
rapidly and safely without exertion, a certain loose-
ness of joints should be cultivated. On a steep slope
one should descend sideways, so that the wholp
length of the foot can be planted fairly on any hold
that offers.
A
man will never sprain his ankle when he expects
to do so at any moment, nor will he be likely to slip
if he is always prepared to fall.
A Hunter's Pack. — Returning to the subject

of outfitting: I have, so far, considered only summer
travel afoot. There are many who go out in the
HOW TO WALK 143
fall of the year, hunters especially, and who may

wish to make side trips on their own hook. Cap-
tain Whelen has stated their case convincingly:
"There is much
to be said in favor of back-pack-
ing. It increases many
fold that sense of absolute
freedom which is one of the fundamental reasons
why men try to escape from civilization for a time.
There is none of that trouble and worry that we all
experience when we have the responsibility of a
pack-train. I admit that back-packing, especially in
a mountainous country, is downright hard work; but
it's work worthy of a man; and once you get into
a game country, you have very much less work than
has he who must be continually watching and caring
for a band of horses. Moreover, the back-packer
usually has better success. He drops into a new
country quietly and unseen. There is none of that
clatter of hoofs, jingle of horse-bells, and noise of
chopping. Before the game comes to know that
there is a human being in the CQuntry, he has had
his pick. . . .
The problem of transportation on a western big-

game hunt is a constant one. The country is open,
and one locality soon becomes hunted out. The
reports of the rifles, the sound of axes, and the
shouts as the horses are daily driven to camp, soon
cause the game to leave for more healthful country.
Hence camp must be moved from ten to twenty
miles every three or four days. It has always
seemed that one could hunt longer in one locality,
and make these short journeys more easily, if he
could forsake the pack-train for the back -pack. The
latter method is a necessity when one wants to hunt
a country inaccessible to horses. On some of my
most successful hunts, from the standpoints both of
recreation and of heads, I have hired a packer to
take me in and bring me out, but in the meantime
have carried my entire hunting where I would."
We may add that back-packing is the cheapest

possible way to spend one's vacation in the wilder-
ness.
The man who goes out alone for a week or so
in the fall of the year, or at an altitude where the
nights always are cold, should be fit to carry on his
back from 40 to 50 pounds at the outset of course —
the pack lightens as he consumes rations. I am not
including weight of gun, cleaning implements, and
ammunition. He should wear woolen underwear
of medium weight, thick and soft woolen socks, 1
army overshirt, kersey or moleskin trousers, leather
belt with pockets (not loops) for clips or loose
cartridges, hunting shoes of medium height for ord-
inary use, felt hat, and, at times, buckskin gloves.
In his pack there would be a spare suit of under-
wear and hose, a cruiser or ''stag" shirt of best
Mackinaw, moccasins or leather-topped rubbers, and
German socks. In pockets and on the belt he would
carry the same articles mentioned in my summei*
hiking list.
A mere shelter cloth is too breezy for this sea-

son (there will be no opportunity to build a thatched
camp, as the hunter will be on the move from day to
day). He needs a half-pyramid tent, say of the
Royce pattern (Vol. I., pp. 85-91) but somewhat
smaller, and weighing not over 4 pounds.
Bedding is the problem a man carrying his all
;
upon his back, in cold weather, must study com-

pactness as well as lightness of outfit. Here the
points are in favor of sleeping-bag vs. blankets, be-
cause, for a given insulation against cold and
draughts, it may be so made as to save bulk as well
as weight. For a pedestrian it need not be so roomy
as the standard ones, especially at the foot end.
Better design one to suit yourself, and have an out-
fitter make it up to order, if you have no skill with
the needle. An inner bag of woolen blanketing, an
outer one of knotted wool batting, and a separate
cover of cravenetted khaki or Tanalite the weight —
need not be over 8 pounds complete. Your camp-
fire will do the rest. A
browse bag is dispensed
with, for you will carry an axe and can cut small
logs to hold in place a deep layer of such soft stuff
as the location affords.
The short axe may be of Hudson Bay or Dam-
ascus pattern. There should be a small mill file to
keep it in order, besides the whetstone.
The ration list is based on. the assumption that tha
HOW TO WALK 145
hunter's rifle will supply him, after the first day
or two, with at least a pound of fresh meat a day.
If it does not, go elsewhere. There are plenty of
good ways to cook without boiling, stewing, or
loasting in an oven (see Vol. I.), which are pro-
cesses that require vessels too bulky for a foot travel-
er to bother with.
Either the Whelen pack sack or a large Duluth
one will carry the whole outfit. Both have the ad-
vantage that they can be drawn up to smaller dimen-
sions as the pack decreases in size, or for carrying
the day's supplies when most of the outfit is cached
at or near camp.
The following outfit
complete, save for gun,
is
ammunition and cleaning implements. For a long-

er trip than one week, a reserve of provisions can
be cached at some central point in the hunting dis-
trict.
AUTUMN OUTFIT
bs. oz
Pack sack, with tump strap 2 12
Tent , 4
Sleeping-bag 8
Pillow bag* 3
Rubber cape* 1 5
Mackinaw stag shirt 1 8
Spare underwear, 1 suit 1 8
Spare socks, 2 pairs 5
Moccasins 1
German socka 12
Axe and muzzle 1 12
Cooking kit, dish towel, tin cup* 2 2
Cheese cloth 2
Mill file, 6 in 2
Whetstone* = 2
Pliers* 4
Wallet, fitted* 6
Twine* 2
Toilet articles* 6
Talcum powder* 2
Toilet paper* 1
First aid kit* .

._
5
Spare matches, in tin 6
Alpina folding lantern 8
Candles, ^ doz '
^
Emergency ration 8
Tobacco, in wpf. bag 8
Spare pipe 3
Total pack without provisions .28

. 12
One Week's Rations (not including fresh meat)

Flour 4
Baking powder 4
Meal, cereal 1 8
Milk powder 8
Butter 8
Bacon 2
Egg powder 8
Raisins 8
Dried apricots, prunes 1
Sugar 1
Chocolate 12
Coffee .o 8
Tea ... 2
Salt 4
13 6
Provision bags, etc 10
14
Pack complete. .42 12
The articles starred (*) are same as in summer

hiking list already given.
Moccasins are to be large enough to fit over the
German socks. This foot-gear is used in still hunt-
ing in dry weather, and on cold nights. The camp-
er sleeps, when it is frosty, in fresh underwear and
socks, army (dried before the fire after the
shirt
day's use), trousers, stag shirt, neckerchief rigged as
hood, German socks, and moccasins. When he has
tc get up to replenish the fire, or in case of any
alarm, he springs from his bed attired cap-a-pie.
Many a time I have gone for a week's hunt,
high up In the mountains, in bleak November, with
much less outfit than is here listed. nativeMy
companions went even lighter than I. Often they
slept out on the mountainside without shelter or
HOW TO WALK 147
blanket, when the winter fog coated every twig in

the forest with rime, and frost sprang up from the
giound in feathery forms three or four inches high.
We grinned at all that, and fancied that we were
playing the game like men. So we wêre, but not
like sensible men. Wewere sapping our vitality.
Had we gone fixed to be well fed by day, warm and
dry at night, and clean enough not to have smelt
like a monkey's nest, we would have been playing
a better game. —
A -loo, it is gone and 1 am done.
—
Going Alone. I have given a good deal of space
to the subject of outfitting for single-handed cruis-
ing in the wîlderness, because, as I have said, it is
a difficult art, and anyone w^ho masters it can easily
fit up a company kit for two or more. But why
go alone? To the multitude, whether city or coun-
try bred, the bare idea of faring alone in the wîlds^
for days or weeks at a time is eerie and fantastic:
it makes their flesh creep. He w^ho does so is certain-
ly an eccentric, probably a misanthrope, possibly a
fugitive from justice, or, likely enough, some moon-
struck fellow whom the authorities would do well
to follow up and watch.
But many a seasoned woodsman can avow that
some of the most satisfying, if not the happiest, per-
iods of his I'fe have been spent far out of sight and
suggestion of his fellow men.
From a practical standpoint there are compen-
sations in cruising the woods and streams alone, and
even in camping without human fellowship. You
get the most out of the least kit. It simplifies the
whole business of camp routine. It would be pig-
gish, for example, for two men to eat out of the
same dish there must be three at least, one to coolc
;
in and two for serving the food but for one man
;
to eat from, his own frying-pan is ncrt only cleanly

but a sensible thing to do. It keeps the food hotter
than if transferred to a cold plate, and saves wâsh-
ing an extra dish, an economy of effort that is the
most admirable of all efficiencies!
The problem of cuisine is reduced to its lowest
— —
terms. You cook what you like, and nothing else;
you prepare what you need, and not one dumpling
more. It is done precisely to your own taste
there is a world of gustatory satisfaction in that.
You bake a corn pone,y let us say, leaving the frying-
pan clean of grease.You cut your venison (the
flesh of all game venison) into cubes and broil
is
these on a sharpened stick, one at a time, just as

you eat them, which is the best and daintiest cook-
ing process in the world. Your coffee, settled by
a dash of cold water, is drunk from the same cup
you brewed it in.
Then comes the cleaning up. No more bugaboo
of dishwashing, which all men so cordially despise.
You give pan and pannikin a rinse and a wipe, jab
your knife into the ground and draw it through some
fresh leaves, chuck the broiling-stick into the fire,
and voila, the thing is done, thoroughly and
neatly done, without rising from your seat!
So with other camp chores, from pitching the
miniature tent to packing up for the march: every-
thing is simplified, and time and effort are saved,
From a selfish standpoint, the solitary camper
revels mabsolute freedom. Any time, anywhere,
he can do as he pleases. There is no anxiety as to
whether his mates are having a good time, no obli-
gation of deference to their wishes. Selfish? Yes;
but, per contra, when one is alone he is boring no-
body, elbowing nobody, treading on nobody's toes.
He is neither chiding nor giving unasked advice.
—
Undeniably he is minding his own business a virtue
to cover multitudes of sins.
A companion, however light-footed he may be>
adds fourfold to the risk of disturbing the shy na-
tives of the wild. By yourself you can sit motion-
less and mutely watchful, but where two are side
by side it is neither polite nor endurable to pass
an hour without saying a word. Lonesome? Nay
indeed. Whoever has an eye for Nature is never
less alone than when he is by himself. Should a
strain of poetic temperament be wedded to one*s
'
HOW TO WALK 149'
habit of observing, then it is more than ever urgent

I that he should be undisturbed; for in another's
'presence
"Imagination flutters feeble wings."
Solitude has its finer side. The saints of old,
when seeking to cleanse themselves from taint of
worldliness and get closer to the source of prophecy,
went singly into the desert and bided there alone.
So now our lone adventurer, unsaintly as he may
have been among men, experiences an exaltation,
finds healing and encouragement in wilderness life.
When tvvilight falls, and shadows merge in dark-
camper muses before the fire
ness, the single-handed
that comforts his bivouac and listens to the low,
sweet voices of the night, which never are heard
in full harmony save by those who sit silent and
alone.
Then comes the time of padded feet. Stealthy
now, and mute, are the creatures that move in the
forest. Our woodsman, knowing the ways of the
beasts, regards them not, but dreams before the
leaping flames like any Parsee worshipping the fire.
Weird shapes appear in the glowing coals. Elves
dance in the halo where night and radiance mingle.
Hark to Titania!
"Out of this "wood do not desire to go:
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt .or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state;
Anddo love thee/'
I
Ah, precious even the ass's noil. If by that masque
one shall enter the fairy realm!
CHAPTER X
CONCENTRATED FOODS
The European settlers in this country were
first
ignorant of the ways of the wilderness. Some of I
them had been old campaigners in civilized lands,
but they did not know the resources of American
forests, nor how to utilize them. The consequence
was that many starved in a land of plenty. The
survivors learned to pocket their pride and learn
from the natives, who, however contemptible they
m.ight seem in other respects, were past masters
of the art of going "light but right." An almost
naked savage could start out alone and cross from
the Atlantic to the Mississippi, without buying or
begging from anybody, and without robbing, unless
from other motives than hunger. This was not
merely due to the abundance of game. There were
large tracts of the wilderness where game was scarce,
or where it was unsafe to hunt. The Indian knew
the edible plants of the forest, and how to extract
good food from roots that were rank or poisonous in
their natural state; but he could not depend wholly
upon such fortuitous findings. His mainstay on
long journeys was a small bag of parched and pul-
verized maize, a spoonful of which, stirred in water,
and swallowed at a draught, sufficed him for a meal
when nature's storehouse failed.
—
Pinole. All of our early chroniclers praised this
parched meal as the most nourishing food known.
In New England it went by the name of "nocake,"
a corruption of the Indian word nookik. William
Wood, who, in 1634, wrote the first topographical
account of the Massachusetts colony, says of nocake
1^,0
CONCENTRATED FOODS 15/
that "It Indian corn parched in the hot ashes, the

is
ashes being sifted from it; it is afterwards beaten

to powder and put into a long leatherne bag trussed
at the Indian's backe like a knapsacke, out of which
they take three spoonsful a day." Roger Williams,
the founder of Rhode Island, said that a spoonful
of nocake mixed with water made him "many a
good meal." Roger did not affirm, however, that it
made him a square meal, nor did he mention the
size of his spoon.
In Virginia this preparation was known by another
Indian name, "rockahominy" (which is not, as ouf
dictionaries assume, a sjmonym for plain hominy,
but a quite different thing). That most enter-
taining of our early woodcraftsmen. Colonel Byrd
of Westover, who ran the dividing line between
Virginia and North Carolina in 1728-29, speaks of it
as follows:
"Rockahominy is nothing but Indian corn parched

without burning, and reduced to Powder. The Fire
drives out all the Watery Parts of the Corn, leaving
the Strength of it behind, and this being very dry,
becomes much lighter for carriage and less liable to
be Spoilt by the Moist Air. Thus half a Dozen
Pounds of this Sprightful Bread will sustain a Man
for as many Months, provided he husband it well,
and always spare it when he meets with Venison,
which, as said before, may be Safely eaten without
I
any Bread at all. By what I have said, a Man needs
not encumber himself with more .than 8 or 10 Pounds
of Provision, tho' he continue half a year in the
Woods. These and his Gun will support him very
well during the time, without the least danger of
keeping one Single Fast."
The Moravian missionary Heckewelder, in his

History^ Mariners Customs of the Indian
and
Nations J describes how the Lenni Lenape, or Dela-
wares, prepared and used this emergency food:
"Their Psindamooan or Tassmanane, as they call it,

is the most nourishing and durable food made out of
the Indian corn. The blue sweetish kind is the grain
which they prefer for that purpose. They parch it
in cân hot ashes, until it bursts;, it is then sifted
152 CAJViriNG AND WOODCRAFT
and cleaned, and pounded in a mortar into a kind of
flour, and when they wish to make it very good, they
mix some sugar [i.e., maple sugar] with it. When
wanted for use, they take about a tablespoonful of
this flour in their mouths, then stooping to the river
or brook, drink water to it. If, however, they have
a cup or other small vessel at hand, they put the
flour in it and mix it with water, in the proportion
of one tablespoonful to a pint. At their camps they
will put a small quantity in a kettle with water and
let it boil down, and they will have a thick pottage.
With this food the traveler and warrior will set out
on long journeys and expeditions, and as a little of
it will serve them, for a day, they have not a heavy
load of provisions tp carry. Persons who are un-
acquainted with this' diet ought to be careful not to
take too much at a time, and not to suffer themselves
to be tempted too far by its flavor; more than one
or two spoonfuls, at most, at any one time or at one
meal is dangerous; for it is apt to swell in the
stomach or bowels, as when heated over a fire."
The best of our border hunters and warriors,

such as Boone and Kenton and Crockett, relied a
good deal upon this Indian dietary when starting
on their long hunts, or when undertaking forced
marches more formidable than any that regular
troops could have withstood. So did Lewis and
Clark on their ever-memorable expedition across the
unknown West. Modern explorers who do their
outfitting in London or New York, and who think
it needful to command a small army of porters and
gun-bearers when they go into savage lands, might

do worse than read the simple annals of that trip
by Lewis and Clark, if they care to learn what
real pioneering was.
It is to be understood, of course, that the parched
and pulverized maize was used mainly or solely as
an emergency food, when no meat was to be had.
Ordinarily the hunters of that day, white and red,
when they were away from settlements or trading
posts, lived on ''meat straight," helped out with
nuts, roots, wild salads, and berries. Thus did
Boone, the greater part of two years, on his first ex-
pedition to Kentucky; and so did the trappers of
: '
CONCENTRATED FOODS 153

the far West in the days of Jim Bridger and Kit
Carson.
Powdered parched corn Is still the standby of na-
tive travelers in the wilds of SpanishAmerica, and it
is sometimes used by those hardy mountaineers, "our
contemporary ancestors," in the Southern Appalach-
ians. One of my camp-mates in the Great Smoky
Mountains expressed to me his surprise that any one)
should be ignorant of so valuable a resource of the
hunter's life. He claimed that no other food was
so ''good for a man's wind" in mountain climbing.
In some parts of the South and West the pulver-
ized parched corn is called "coal flour." The Ind-
ians of Louisiana gave it the name of gofio. In
Mexico it is known as pinole. (Spanish pronunci-
ation, />f ^-no-lay; English, pie-Tzo-lee.)
Some years ago Mr. T. S. Van Dyke, author cf(
The Still Hunter and other excellent works on field
sports, published a very practical article on emerg-
ency rations in a weekly paper, from which, as it
is now buried where few can consult it, I take the
liberty of making the following quotation

"La comida food of the desert, or
del desierfo, the
pinole, as it is knocks the hind sights
generally called,
off all American condensed foods. It is the only
form in which you can carry an equal weight and
bulk of nutriment on which alone one can, if neces-l
sarry, live continuously for weeks, and even months,
Mnthout any disorder of stomach or bowels. . . .
The principle of pinole is very simple. If you should

eat a breakfast of corn-meal mush alone, and start
out forâ hard tramp, you will feel hungry in an hour
or two, though at the table the dewrinkling of your
abdomen may have reached the hurting point. But
if, instead of distending the meal so much with water
and heat, you had simply mixed it in cold v^ter and

drunk it, you could have taken down three times
the quantity in one-tenth of the time. You would
not feel the difference at your waistband, but you
would feel it mightily in your legs, especially if you
have a heavy rifle on your back. It works a little
on the principle of dried apples, though it is quite
an improvement. There is no danger of explosion.;
it swells to suit the demand, and not too suddenly
Suppose, now, instead of raw corn-meal, we make
—
not only drinkable but positively good. This is
it
done by parching- to a very light broyn before

easily
grinding, and grinding just fine enough to mix so as
to be drinkable, but not pasty, as flour would be.
Good wheat is as good as corn, and perhaps better,
while the mixture is very good. Common rolled
oats browned in a pan in the oven and run through
a spice mill is as good and easy to make it out of
as anything. A coffee mill may do if it will set fine
enough. Ten per cent, of popped corn ground in
with it will improve the flavor so much that your
children will get away with it all if you don't hide
it. Wheat and corn are hard to grind, bu4: the small
Enterprise spice mill will do it- You may also mix
some ground chocolate with it for flavor, which,
with popped corn, makes it very fine Indi- . . .
gestible? Your granny's nightcap! You must

. .
remember that it is "werry fillin' for the price," and

go slow with it until you have found your co-
efficient. . . .
Now for the application. The Mexican rover of

the desert will tie a small sack of pinole behind his
saddle and start for a trip of several days. It is the
lightest of food, and in the most portable shape,
sandproof, bug and fly proof, and everything.
Wherever he finds water he stirs a few ounces in a
cup never weighed it, "but four seem about enough
(I
at a time for an ordinary man), drinks it in five
seconds, and is fed for five or six hours. If he has
jerky, he chews that as he jogs along, but if he has
not he will go through the longest trip and come
out strong and well on pinole alone." Shooting and
Fishing, Vol. xx, p. 248.
When preparing pinole for mountaineering trips,

I 'jsed to pulverize the parched corn in a hominy
mortar, which is nothing but a three-foot cut off of
.a two-foot log, with a cavity chiseled out in the
top, and a wooden pestle shod with iron. The
hole is of smaller diameter at the bottom than at the
top, so that each blow of the pestle throws most of
the corn upward, and thus it is evenly powdered.
Two heaping tablespoonfuls was the usual "sup,"
and, if I had nothing else, I took it frequently dur-
ing the day. With a handful of raisins, or a chunk
of sweet chocolate or maple sugar, it made a square
meal.
But what is the actual food value of this Indian
invention ? I take the following figures from a bul-
letin of the Department of Agriculture on Food
Value of Corn and Corn ProductSj by Dr. Charles
D. Woods (Washington, 1907):
Fuel
Kind of material Protein Fat Carbo- Mineral value
hydrates matter per
pound
% % % % Calories
Hominy, boiled.... 2.2 0.2 17.8 0.5 380

Hulled corn 2.3 0.9 22.2 0.5 490
Indian pudding-
(corn mush) .... 5.5 4-8 27.5 1.5 815
Hoecake 4.0 0.6 40.2 2.4 885
Boston brown bread 6.3 2.1 45.8 1.9 1,110
Johnnycake 7.^ 2.2 57.7 2.9 1,385
Granulated cornmeal 9.2 1.9 75.4 1.0 1,655
Corn br'kfast foods,
flaked (part cook'd
ât factory) 9.6 1.1 7^.Z 0.7 1,680
Corn br'kfast foods,
flaked and parched
(ready to eat) ..10.1 1.8 78.4 2.4 1,735
Popped corn 10.7 5.0 78.7 1.3 1,880
Parched corn 11.5 8.4 72.3 2.6 1,915
Wheat "bread (for
comparison) 9.2 1.3 53.1 1.1 1,205
The remaining percentages are water.

Pulverized parched corn owes its "carrying
power" not only to its relatively high nutritive value,
as shown in this table, but largely to the fact that,
when drunk with water instead of cooked, it swelk
in the stomach and gives it a comfortable feeling of
fullness. That this is not an imaginary gain will
be shown later in this chapter.
—
Jerked Venison. The *'jerky" referred to by
Mr. Van Dyke is jerked meat, usually venison: that
is to say, lean meat cut in strips and dried over a
slow fire or in the sun. It is very different from
our commercial dried beef, less salty, more nourish-
ing and appetizing, and one can subsist comfortably
on it for some time with no other foodstuff at all.
The process of jerking venison is described in VoL
I (pp. 277-280).
Pemmican. —The
staple commissary supply of
and of hunters and traders in the
arctic travelers,
far Northwest, is pemmican. This is not so palat-
able as jerky, at least when carelessly prepared;
but it contains more nutriment, in a given bulk,
and is on account of
better suited for cold climates,
the fat mixed with it.
The old-time Hudson Bay pemmican was made
from buffalo meat, in the following manner: first
a sufficient number of bags, about 2x1^ feet, were
made from the hides of old bulls that were unfit
for robes. The lean meat was then cut into thin
strips, as for jerky, and dried in the sun for two or
three days, or over a fire, until it was hard and
brittle. It was then pounded to a powder between
two stones, or by a flail, on a sort of hide threshing-
floor with the edges pegged up. The fat and mar-
row were then melted and mixed with the powdered
lean meat to a paste; or, the bags were filled with
the lean and then the fat was run in on top. After
this the mass was well rammed down, and the bags
were sewed up tight. No salt was used ; but the
pemmican thus prepared would keep sweet for years
in the cool climate of the North. A
piece as large
as one's fist, when soaked and cooked, would make
a meal for two men. When there was flour in the
outfit, theusual allowance of pemmican was i to ^
I ^2 pounds a day per man, with one pound of flour
added. This was for men performing the hardest

labor, and whose appetites were enormous. Service
berries were sometimes added. "Officers' pem-
mican" was made from buffalo humps and marrow.
Pemmican nowadaj^s is made from beef. Bleas-
dell Cameron gives the following details: beef A
dressing 698 pounds yields 47 pounds of first-class
pemmican, 47 pounds of second-class pemmican^
and 23 pounds of dried meat, including tongues, a
total of 117 pounds, dried. The total nutritive
strength is thus reduced in weight to one-sixth that
of the fresh beef. Such pemmican, at the time he
wrote, cost the Canadian government about forty
CONCENTRATED FOODbl 157
cents a pound, equivalent to six pounds of fresh

beef.
Pemmican is sometimes eaten raw, sometimes
boiled with flour into a thick soup or porridge
called robiboo, or, mixed with flour and water and
fried like sausage, it is kno^vn as rascho. The pem-
mican made nowadays for arctic expeditions is pre-
pared from the round of beef cut into strips and
kiln-dried until friable, then ground fine and mixed
with beef suet, a little sugar, and a few currants.
It is compressed into cakes, and then packed so as
to exclude moisture. It can be bought ready-made
in New York, but at an enormous price when sold
in small quantity, and the tins add considerably to
the weight. If one has home facilities he can make
it himself. Leave out the sugar, which makes meat
unpalatable to most men. The sugar item should be
separate in the ration.
Desiccated meat is disagreeable, and not nearly
so nutritious as pemmican, which is already con-

centrated as much as meat should be, and has the ad-
vantage of containing a liberal amount of fat.
—
Army Emergency Rations. In 1870 there
was issued to every German soldier a queer, yellow,
sausage-shaped contrivance that held within its paper
wrapper what looked and felt like a short stick of
dynamite. No, it was not a bomb nor a hand,
grenade. •
It was just a pound of compressed dry
pea soup. This was guaranteed to support a man's
strength for one daj^ without any other aliment
whatever. The soldier was ordered to keep this
roll of soup about him at all times, and never to
use it întil there was no other food to be had. The
offid'di name of the thing was erbswurst (pro-
noMnced airbs-voorst) which means pea sausage.
Within a few months it became famous as the
"iron ration" of the Germans in the Franco-Prus-
sian war.
Our sportsmen over here are well acquainted
with erbswurst, either in its original form or, at
present, as an American "pea soup with bacon" done
up in cartons. For many It is the last call to supper
when they have had no dinner and see slight prospect
of breakfast. Besides, it is the lazy man's prop on
rainy days, and the standby of inexperienced cooks,
Erbswurst is composed of pea meal mixed with a
very little fat pork and some salt, so treated as to
prevent decay, desiccated and compressed into rolls
of various sizes. It is much the same thing as
baked beans would be if they were dried and pow-
dered, except that it tastes different and it contains
much less fat. I understand that the original erbs-
wurst, as prepared by its inventor, Grunberg, in-
cluded a goodly proportion of fat; but the article
of commerce that appeared later had so little of
this valuable component (by analysis only 3.08%)
that you could scarce detect it.
Nobody can spoil erbswurst in the cooking, unless
he goes away and lets it burn. All you have to do is
to start a quart of water boiling, tear off the cover
from a quarter-pound roll of this ''dynamite soup,"
crumble the stuff finely into the water with your fin-
gers, and boil for fifteen or twenty minutes, stirring;
a few times to avoid lumps. Then let the mess
cool, and go to it. You may make it thin as a soup
or thick as a porridge, or fry it after mixing with a
little water, granting you have grease to fry with.
It never spoils, never gets any *'punkier" than it
was at the beginning. The stick of erbswurst that
you left undetected last year in the seventh pocket
of your hunting coat will be just as good when you
discover it again this year. Mice won't gnaw it;
bugs can't get at it; moisture can't get into it. I
have used rolls that had lain so long in damp places
that they were all moldy outside, yet the food
within was neither worse nor better than before.
A pound of erbswurst, costing from thirty-two to
forty cents, about all a man can eat In three meals
Is
straight. Cheap enough, and compact enough, God

wot! However, this little boon has a string at-
tached. Erbswurst tastes pretty good to a hungry
man In the woods as a hot noonday snack, now and
then. It is not appetizing as a sole mainstay for

supper on the same day. Next morning, supposing
you have missed connections with camp, and have
nothing but the rest of that erbswurst, you will
down it amid storms and tempests of your own rais-
ing. And thenceforth, no matter what fleshpots you
may fall upon, you will taste ^'dynamite soup" for a
week.
In its native land, this iron ration lost its popu-
larity and was thrown out of the German army.
Over here, we benighted wights keep on using it,
or its American similitude, in emergencies, simply
because we know of no better substitute, or because
it is the easiest thing of the kind to be found on the
market. We all wish to discover a ready-made ra-

tion as light and compact as erbswurst, as incor-
ruptible and cheap, but one that would be fairly
savory at the second and third eating, and polite
to our insides (which "dynamite soup" is not).
Now I am not about to offer a new invention,
nor introduce some wonderful good grub that has
lately arrived from abroad. Before the outbreak
of the present war, I believe, every army had dis-
carded all the emergency rations it had tried. And
5êt all of them were searching for a better one.
Which goes to prove that a satisfactory^ thing of this

sort is most desirable, but the hardest thing in the
world for a commissariat to find. We wilderness
prowlers join heartily in praying that somebody
will find it; for we, too, like the soldiery, may
be cut of¥ from supplies, no telling when, and with
the added dilemma, perhaps, of being lost and alone
in the "big sticks."
So it is quite worth while to review the best that
has been done along this line, show wherein the most
promising experiments have failed, and restate the
—
problem anew then let fresh inventive genius tackle
it. And a few suggestions may not be out of place.
Beginning again with erbswurst, as prototype of
such foods; theoretically it is highly nutritious,
though less fit for continuous use as a sole diet than
;

I
baked beans, even though the latter were desiccated,
Practically it soon palls on the palate, upsets the
stomach, and, like any other food composed almost
wholly of legumes, causes flatulent dyspepsia or
other disorders of the digestive tract.
British army tried it, and Tommy Atkins
The
letout a howl that reached from South Africa to
London. The War Office replaced it with another
German invention, Kopf's soup, which also had pea
meal for its basis but had a higher content of fat
(17.25%). This was superior in potential energy,
but the after effects were similar to those of erbs-
wurst. It was plain that an exclusive diet, if only
for a day or two, of legumes and fat would soon
put a man to the bad. England discarded the iron
ration and placated Tommy with jam —
a wise move,
as we shall see.
In 1900 a new kind of emergency ration was
introduced in our own army. This was made up of
eight ounces of a meat-and-cereal powder, four
ounces of sweet chocolate, and some salt and pepper
all put up in a tin can eight inches long and thin
enough to slip easily into one's pocket. This pound
of food was calculated to subsist a man in full
strength and vigor for one day. Details of its
preparation are here copied from official sources:
"The chocolate component consists of equal
weights of pure chocolate and pure sugar molded
into cakes of one and one-third ounces each. Three
of these go into the day's ration.
"The bread and meat component consists of:
"(i) Fresh lean beef free from visible fat and
sinew, ground in a meat grinder and desiccated so
as to contain five per cent or less of moisture, the
heat never being allowed to cook it in the slightest
degree. The dried product is then reduced to pow'
der and carefully sifted through a fine-meshed sieve,
the resulting flour being the meat component.
"(2) Cooked kiln-dried wheat, the outer bran re-
moved, is parched and then ground to a coarse pow-
der. This yields the bread component. Sixteen
CONCENTRATED FOODS i6i
parts of the meat, thirty-two parts of the bread,

and one part of common salt, all by weight, are
thoroughly mixed in such small quantities as to be
-entirely homogeneous and compressed into four-
ounce cakes. Three of these go into the day's ra-
tion. The bread and meat may be eaten dry, or be
stirred in cold water and eaten or one cake may be
;
boiled for five minutes in three pints of water, and

seasoned [as soup] or one cake may be boiled for five
;
minutes in one pint of wâter to make a thick porridge

and be eaten hot or cold. When cold it may be
f:liced, and, if fat is available, may be fried. Three-
fourths of an ounce of salt and one gramme of pep-
per are in the can for seasoning."
At first glance it might seem that the bread and
meat components of this ration were essentially the
same as the pinole and jerked venison of our Ind-
ians —
and white frontiersmen and it is quite likely
that the inventors had those primitive foods in
mind, seeking only to condense them still further
without impairing their famous nutritive values.
Practically, however, there is little resemblance.
Jerky retains much of the meat juice, which gives
it its pleasant flavor. Desiccated meat contains no
juice, and its taste is altogether different. Pul-
verized, parched wheat is a sort of pinole, but in this
case it was first cooked, then parched, and the flavor
was inferior.
Finally the meat powder and grain powder were
mixed and sifted into a homogeneous mass, com-
pressed, and sealed up in an air-tight tin. One need
not even taste such a product to know that it could
not possibly satisfy the palate like the old-time
preparations.
The emergency ration gave satisfaction for a time,
but eventually there were many complaints that it
was indigestible, or otherwise unwholesome. Scient-
istsreported that it was lacking in nutrition. The
troops did not like its taste, and their officers warned
them to husband their hard bread and bacon as long
as they could, since a very limited amount of either
or both, taken with the emergency ration, made ft
far more palatable. Another fault of this "near-

food" was that the can that held it was so thick and
heavy that it made the gross weight of the article
almost as great as that of the regular haversack ra-
tion,which cost much less and had a better taste.
In 19 1 3 the Secretary of War ordered the dis-
continuance of this emergency ration, notwithstand-
ing that great quantities of it still wêre in storage.
The problem of getting up a better one was turned
over to food experts of the Department of Agricul-
ture. About a year later a new emergency ration
was, I believe, adopted, composed of bean flour, lean
meat, and a small percentage of wheat flour.
raisins,
This is and nutritious, but I do
said to be palatable
not know how well it may have stood the test of
service.
The Problem of an emergency ration is not
merely one of condensing the utmost nutriment into
the least bulk and weight. One cannot live on but-
tei' or peanuts alone, however high their caloric
value may be. The stuff must be digestible it must :
neither nauseate nor clog the sj^stem. When a man

is faint from hunger (and that is the only time he
ever will need an emergency ration) his stomach

must not be forced to any uncommon stunts. And
so I hold that a half ration of palatable food that
is readily assimilated does more good than a full
quota of stuff that taxes a man's gastric strength or

disorders his bowels. And there is a good deal
to be said for mere palatability. Food that tastes
bad is bad, for nobody can work well on it.
Of course, an emergency ration is not intended to
be used long at a time. It is not meant to inter-
change with the regular reserve ration of hard bread,
bacon, or preserved meat, dried vegetables, coffee,
sugar, and salt, that soldiers carry on their persons
during a campaign. TTie iron ration proper is a
minimum bulk and weight of unspoilable food that
is complete in itself, packed in a waterproof and
insect-proof cover, and it is never to be opened save

in extremity when reserve rations have run out and
supply trains cannot connect with the troops. Yet
this is the very time when men are likely to
be exhausted and famished. It is the very time
when their s^^stems demand food that tastes good and
that assimilates easily.
Again, an emergency ration should contain
some component that digests rather slowly, or it soon
will leave a feeling of emptiness in the stomach it —
will not "stick to the ribs" like one that takes
several hours to become assimilated. Moreover, the
stomach craves bulk as well as nutriment there —
should be something to swell up and distend it.
This is important, for, if condensation be carried too
far, it defeats its own purpose. If we could con-
centrate a thousand calories of food energy into a
single tablet, a man would not feel that he had eaten
anything after taking it.
Bread Substitutes. The main — difficulty in
compounding a good emergency ration is in getting
a concentrated substitute for bread. The Germans
have experimented with flour or grits made from
peanuts. It is claimed that a pound of peanut flour
contains as much nutritive material as three pounds
of beef or two of peas. It can be made into por^
ridge or into biscuits. Its flavor is pleasant in either
a cooked or a raw state. Whether its nutrients are
easily and completely utilized by the system has not,
so far as I know, been proven.
As for meal made from beans or peas, it is not
easily digested, and it tends to putrify in the ali-
mentary canal. (A method of desiccating baked
beans is given in Vol. I, p. 368).
Hardtack may be considered a proper component
of an emergency ration, because it is a concentrated
bread that does not spoil. The best way to use it,
when facilities permit, is up and add it

to break it
to hot soup or coffee, or pour hot water over it,

pepper and salt, and eat with bacon grease.
Plasmon biscuit (see Vol. I., p. 192) are morf
palatable than hardtack and more nutritious, but
expensive. In appearance they resemble round Edu-
cator crackers. Half a dozen of them, with a small
cake of chocolate, make a satisfying lunch. Plasmon
Itself is the proteid of milk in powdered form, con-
taining 80% of pure protein. It may be used either
dry or dissolved in water. When sprinkled dry over
any kind of food, or cooked in with cereals, bread,
soups, etc., it adds very much to the nutritive value
without altering the flavor of the food.
Various kinds of meat biscuits have been tried out
most thoroughly by troops and travelers, but with-
out satisfaction. Kipling said, ''compressed veget-
ables and meat biscuits may be nourishing, but what
Tommy Atkins needs is bulk in his inside." In
this he was doing the vegetables injustice, for, when
cooked, they do swell up and fill one's inside.
—
CoijDENSED Soups. Nearly all go-light outfits
include a supply of compressed soups. Some of these
are of good flavor, others are of w^hat Stewart Ed-
ward White calls the ''dishwater brand." He
recommends Knorr's pea, bean, lentil, rice, onion
(none of the others), and particularly Maggi's
green pea and lentil. Of bouillon capsules he says
that "they serve to flavor hot water, and that is abouG'
all." I agree with him throughout. Maggi's soups
are packed in tin-foil before putting on the paper
wrapper. This excludes moisture, but I have
found that it will not keep out the industrious wee-
vil. Condensed soups have their uses, chiefly as
pick-me-ups; but they do not by any means contain
enough nourishment to furnish a hungry man's meal.
I mention them here only as a warning against put-
ting confidence in them for any such purpose.
Bouillon cubes, etc., are much worse, in this re-
spect. Properly they are nothing but condiments or
appetizers for healthy people and mild stimulants for
the sick. Their actual food value has been deter-
mined by the Bureau of Chemistry of the U. S. De-
partment of Agriculture, which was led to investigate
the matter because "these articles are erroneously be-
lieved to be convenient forms of concentrated meat.'*
nfen dlilerent brands of commercial bouillon cubes

v,-ere analyzed, with the result that the best showed
62% salt, 5.25% water and fat, 28% meat extract,
4.7570 plant extract, and from this they ranged on
down to the poorest, with 72^0 salt, 8.5% water and
fat, 8.17% meat extract, 11.33% plant extract. The
plant extract " is useful because of its flavoring prop-
erties, but has slight, if any, nutritive value." As for
the semi-solid meat extracts sold in jars, the chemist
reported that they "are not concentrated beef. They
are stimulants and flavoring adjuncts, and have only
a slight food value, owing to the small amount of
protein (muscle-building food) \vhich they contain."
On the other hand, one can make for himself
a real meat extract, in which much of the nourish-
ment of beef or veal or venison is concentrated in
the form of little cubes of a gluey consistency from
which a strengthening soup can quickly be prepared.
Take a leg of young beef, veal, or venison (old
meat will not jelly easily). Pare off every bit of
fat and place the lean meat In a large pot. Boil
it steadily and gently for seven or eight hours, until
I
the meat is reduced to rags, skimming off, from time

to time, the grease that arises. Then pour this
strong broth into a large, wide stew-pan, place it
over a moderate fire, and let it simmer gently until It
comes to a thick jelh\ When It gets so thick that
there may
be danger of scorching It, place the vessel
over boiling water, and stir It very frequently until,
when cold, it will have the consistency of glue.
Cut this substance Into small cubes and lay them
singly where they can become thoroughly dry. Or,
if 3'ou run the jelly Into sausage skins and tie
prefer,
up the ends. A
cube or thick slice of this glaze, dis'
solved In hot water, makes an excellent soup. A
small piece allowed to melt In one's mouth is
strengthening on the march.
This is a very old recipe, being mentioned In
Byrd's History of the Dividing Li?ie, and recom-
mended along with rockahominy. The above can be
rnade in camp, w^hen opportunity offers, thus laying
in enough concentrated soup stock to last a month,
which is quite convenient, as it takes at least half a
day to make good soup from the raw materials, and
these are not always at hand when most wanted.
—
Fats. In speaking of erbswurst I remarked on
its deficiency in fat, which is an important component
of field rations, especially in cold weather, since it is
fuel for the body. Pemmican owes much of its
efficiency to the large percentage of fat. Captain

Scott had the pemmican for his antarctic expedi-
tion made with 50% lard, which is pure fat. Such
a mixture would nauseate many a man, but nearly
everybody likes butter, which is the next most con-
centrated form of fat. The best field luncheon for
cold weather, when jôu can get it, is in the form of
sandwiches of toasted bread, thick slices of butter,
and brown or maple sugar. It is very nourishing,
and it will not freeze up like plain bread, as there is
practically no water in it. Outfitters supply excel-
lent butter, in one-pound cans, that will keep in
any climate.
Butter is out of the question in an emergency ra-
tion that is to be sealed up and kept indefinitely.
There are, however, certain other fats that will take
its place as fuel.
Desiccated Eggs, if prepared from the whole
egg, contain 36% of fat. They are also remark-
ably rich in protein. There is no good reason, ex-
cept its cost and the fact that it requires cooking,
why egg powder should not form a considerable con-
stituent of an emergency ration, as it keeps perfectly
when protected from moisture. (See Vol. I., pp.
183 and 189). Its fat content is nearly equal to
that of full cream cheese, and its fuel value nearly a
third more.
Chocolate^ in plain form, contains about 49%
of vegetable fat; less, of course, when sweetened.
It is necessary, however, for eating purposes, that
chocolate should have considerable sugar added, and
this is directly a gain, for sugar itself is stored energy,
as we soon shall see. Chocolate never gets stale.
It requires no cooking, can be eaten on the march,

yet a stimulating hot drink can be prepared from
it in a few minutes. It is the experience of Alpin-
ists and other go-light artists that no other raw food
of equal weight and bulk will carry a man so far
under severe strain as a handful of raisins and a
cake of chocolate. When eaten by itself, chocolate
is constipating and cloying, at least to some people.
Raisins eaten along with it prevent digestive

troubles; a couple of crackers help the ration.
There is a "camper's emergency ration," carried
in stock by outfitters, that contains chocolate, malted
milk, egg albumen, casein, sugar, and cocoa butter,
with added coffee flavor. Three cakes of it, each
wrapped in paper and tin-
sufficient for a meal, are
foiland enclosed in a sealed box with key-opener,
the box being 4^ x 3 x i^ inches, and rounded
for the pocket. The net weight of the ration is 8
ounces; gross wêight of box filled, 11^ ounces.
Chocolate not to be recommended for hot weather.
is
Nuts. —The table of food values in Vol. I., pp.

182-184, shows that various nuts are very rich in
vegetable fat, and so have high fuel values. They
are discussed on page 196 of the same volume. Nuts
should be chewed thoroughly, so as to be well mixed
with saliva, or they will clog the digestive tract.
—
Sweets. Sugar has peculiar merit as a compon-
ent of the emergency ration. All old-timers know
from experience that one has an unusual craving for
sweets when working hard afield. Hunters and
lumberjacks and soldiers suffered from that crav-
ing long before scientists discovered the cause
of it, which is that during hard muscular exertion
the consumption of sugar in the body increases four-
fold.
It may sound odd
but it is true, that when hunters
or explorers are reduced to a diet of meat "straight'*
the most grateful addition that they could have
would be something sweet. Men can get along
ver}'^ well on venison, without bread, if they have
maple sugar or candy and some citric acid (crystal-
lized lemon juice) to go with It. And there is good
reason for Sugars have about the same food
this.
uses as starches, because all starch must be converted
into sugar or dextrin before it can be assimilated.
Mark, then, that sugar needs no conversion; there-
fore it acts quickly as a pick-me-up to relieve fatigue,
while bread or any other starchy food would have to
go first through the process of changing into sugar
before it could supply force and heat to the body.
A great advantage of sweets is that every normal
person likes them. Another is that they are anti-
septic and preservative, which adapts them perfectly
to use in rations that may have to be stored or car-
ried a long time before using.
These are not merely my own individual opinions,
)although all my experience backs them. Since the
worth of sweets in a sportsman's or soldier's food
supply is commonly underrated, or even ridiculed,
through sheer crass ignorance, let me quote from
Thompson, one of the most eminent of our dieti-
cians :
"The value of sweets in the adult dietary has ot

late yearsfound recognition in armies. The British
War Office shipped 1,500,000 pounds of jam to South
Africa as a four months' supply for 116,000 troops,
and one New York firm, during the Spanish-Ameri-
can War, shipped over fifty tons of confectionery to
the troops in Cuba, Porto Rico, and the Philippines.
The confectionery consisted of chocolate creams,
cocoanut macaroons, lemon and other acid fruit
drops. . .
"An old-time custom among soldiers in the field

is to fill a canteen with two parts vinegai* and one
part molasses as an emergency sustaining drink. . . .
"Sugar furnishes, in addition to heat, considerable

muscle energy, and it has been lately proved by
Mosso, Vaughn Harley and others to have distinct
power in relieving muscular fatigue.
"Vaughn Harley found that with an exclusive diet
of 17V2 ounces of sugar dissolved in water he could
perform almost as much muscular work as upon a
full mixed diet. The effect in lessening muscle
fatigue was noticeable in half an hour and reached
A maximum in two hours. Three or four ounces of
CONCExNTRATED FOODS 169
sugar taken before the expected onset of fatigue
postponed or entirely inhibited the sensation.
"The hard-working lumbermen of Canada and
Maine eat a very large quantity of sugar in the form
of molasses. I have seen them add it to tea and to
almost everything they cook. Sugar has also been,
found of much service upon polar expeditions."
Many of our sportsmen, when going light, sub-

stitute saccharin (saxin, crystallose) for sugar,
thinking thereby to save weight and bulk. This is a
grave error. It is true that saccharin has enormous
sweetening power, and that moderate use of it on aa
outing trip, in one's tea and coffee, will do no harm.
But the point overlooked is that sugar is a concen-
t rated source of energyTêasily and quickly assimi-
lated, whereas saccharin produces no energy at all,
being nothing but a coal-tar drug. It is the grape
sugar in raisins, for example, that makes them so
stimulating.
Sir Ernest Shackleton, in outfitting his party for
their recent antarctic expedition, made sugar figure
largely in the rations. On the previous exploring
trip he and his companions each took two or three
lumps of sugar every two or three hours, and he
said that ten minutes after eating it they could
feel the heat going through their bodies.
One at least of the nationsengaged in the pres-
ent war supplies its men in the trenches with a daily
ration of ten ounces of sugar, which is over three
times the allowance of sugar in the field ration of
our own service. "It has been found, however,"
says Outing, "that this abundance of sweet not only
gives the soldier added muscular strength but in-
creases his resistance to cold and fatigue, both phys-
ical and nervous. The action of sugar is most ef-
fective when dissolved in some hot liquid: it is es-
pecially beneficial taken in chocolate."
Fri/its. — One fault of all the ready-made con-
centrated rations that I have seen was that they con-
tained no acids. A fruit acid is needed, even in a
food preparation that is to be used only for a day
or two, in order to correct the ultra-sweet or fatty
components, and is particularly desirable in summer.
It is easy to supply the deficiency, very con-
in
centrated form, by adding tablets of citric acid. This
makes refreshing lemonade. Lime-juice tablets are
good on the march, as they combine sugar with
acid, and not only supply energy but ward off thirst.
Fruit acid is supplied in very palatable form by de- j
hydrated rhubarb and cranberries, which cook in a
few minutes, and can scarcely be told from the fresh
articles.
Raisins have already been mentioned several times.
Their stimulating effect, due to the grape sugar in
them, is felt ten minutes after eating. On the trail,
when working hard, as in mountain climbing, it is
a good rule to eat little and often. Raisins are

particularly convenient for munching as one goes
along. They have added value in that they are
mildly laxative, and something of that sort is cer-
tainly needed in the ration. Figs have the same
virtue. I Imagine the seeds have somêthlng to do
with this, and for that reason I do not use seedless
or seeded raisins.
Dehydrated vegetables have no place in emergency
rations simply because they require long cooking.
—
Ration Packing. The mere weight of the tin
container of the discarded U. S. A. emergency ration
Avas a serious objection. Such a box will weigh
about a third as much as the food itself. Being
made of heavy tin, It Is hard to open. If a key
opener is attached, it is likely to be lost. A
cover
of parchment paper, which Is waterproof, dirt-proof,
and insect-proof, like the erbswurst ''sausage," is
cheaper, easier to apply, weighs practically nothing,
snd can be torn off with the fingers.
I think it is a mistake to mix meat powder with
legumes or cereals and seal the mass up in an air-
tight cover. In such case, each food taints the
other. The combination has a stale, nondescript
taste, whereas each component would preserve its
natural flavor if packed separately. For woodsmen,
if not for troops, it seems more to put up
•
practical
the emergency ration in two, or even three, separate
packages, each containing only such articles as will
not taint nor steal flavor from the others. This sug-
gestion is made for rations to be carried in stock by
outfitters, which are likely to be kept a good^ while
in storage.
But when a camper puts up emergency grub for
himself, there is a better way. Raisins, pinole, and
the like, are best carried in little bags of thin paraf-
fined cloth (the "balloon silk" of tent makers), tied
low enough so that the top can be doubled over
and tied again, making a water-tight package, very
light, and soft enough to go into one's pocket, or
an>^vhere. Chocolate (which I don't carry in hot
weather) usually comes w^rapped in tin-foil, and en-
closed in paper. You will need salt, in a water-
pi oof bag or a bamboo tube, to season such game
or fish as you may get.
If you carry anything in which water can be
boiled, put a dozen tabloids of tea in the ration^
leave out chocolate and substitute sugar. hot cup A
of sweetened tea Is one of the best hearteners that
I know of, and the tabloid tea sold by outfitters is
pretty good. But what vessel to boil In? Water
can be boiled in a bark cup, as I shall show here-
after; but maybe you can't find bark that will peel.
A practical outdoorsman, C. L. Oilman, suggests
that the emergency food be packed In a half-pound
cocoa can, which is of handy shape for the pocket,
seamed water-tight without solder, holds a pint,
and has a cover that fits over the outside. Punch
two holes near top edge of can, and make a remov-
able wire bail that will stow inside. Steam escapet
through bail holes when cover Is on. Thus your
grub has a light tin container that is good for some-
thing when It Is opened.
For myself, I would fill that little kettle with
pinole, sugar, tea, and salt, In "pokes," and would
carry some raisins separately. One advantage of
pinole, aside from those already mentioned, is that
it is not, like chocolate and raisins, a confection
that tempts one to draw on it when he does not
need it, albeit the flavor is good, when the stuff is
properly prepared, and does not pall on the appetite.
Light Traveling Rations. — Many corre-
spondents have asked me to suggest a "grub list" for
men tiaveling light —one that should be complete
in itself, without helping out by game or fisli or
articlespurchased on the way. Tastes differ, and
"what is one man's meat is another man's poison."
Some assimilate their food more completely than
others. I know of several experienced campers who
seem to get along very well on a food allowance
(their own choice) of from i^ to i^ pounds a
day. They are quite exceptional. An average man,
engaged in hearty outdoor exercise, requires, on a
trip of more than two or three days, about 2^
pounds a day of carefully selected and varied food
that is, as nearly as practicable, water-free. Study
the chapter on Provisions in the first volume of this
book, paying heed to the table of nutritive values.
As all-around advice, I can do no better than sug-
gest, for a real light but adequate and wholesome
ration, what I have given on the list of Summer
Equipment for Back-packing in Chapter VII., omit-
ting the cheese. This would make the ration 2
lbs. 3 oz. net. The tea (not tabloids) and salt are
purposely in excess of what a man would likely con-
sume. Admiral Peary's ration for arctic sledge
journeys (2 lbs. 4^ oz.) given in Vol. I., p. 190,
may be regarded as a minimum for hard work in
winter. It is a monotonous diet, deficient in sugar
and in fruit acid, although his pemmican contained
a little of both.
CHAPTER XI
MARKSMANSHIP IN THE WOODS
Never shall I forget the remark that a backwoods-
man once made when I was trying: to entertain
him at a rifle match near St. Louis. had shown
I
him the shooting-house, the target-house, and their
appurtenances; had explained our system of scor-
ing and our code of rules; had told him the reasons
for using such heavy rifles, sensitive triggers, pronged
butt-plates, cheek-pieces, vernier and wind-gauge
sights— all that; and then I bade him watch some
of our experts as they made buUseye after bullseye,
seldom missing a space the size of a man's head,
shooting ofihand, at 200 measured yards. I thought
that my friend would be impressed. He was; but
not quite as I had anticipated. After watching the
firing for a long time in silence, he turned to me and
remarked: '*If it weren't for the noise and the
powder smoke, this would be a very ladylike game."
Of course, I was piqued at this, and felt like giv-
ing the honest fellow a peppery reply. And yet,
many a time since, as I have sat, chilled to the bone,
on some crossing in the high Smokies, straining my
ears for the bear-dogs far below or, tired beyond
;
speech and faint from hunger, as I lay down beside

a log in the great forest, all alone or, blown by hard
;
climbing till my heart seemed bursting, as I wiped

the mist from my eyes, and got down on all fours
to follow a fresh spoor into the hideous laurel fast-
ness of —
Godforsaken aye, many a time I have looked
backward and thought, ''You were right, partner;
it was a very ladylike game."
It was a long time ago —that shooting match. If
173
a city man, wanted to practice with a
in those days,
rifle at targets,he had to join a "schuetzen" society.
(In Missouri the organized militia had no range, and
never fired a rifle except with blanks ) So we had to !
fall back on a foreign system that never yet has

found so much as an English name. The schuetzen
method did teach a man to hold steadily and to let
off delicately, and this is the AB C of marksman-
ship. But it stopped there. It taught the ABC
forward and backward till the pupil became, perhaps,
wonderfully expert in such exercise but it never got ;
beyond ABC and Z Y

X. It taught him to drive
a nail with a bullet, offhand but nothing about quick
;
firing with accuracy, nothing about hitting moving

objects, nothing about judging distances and making
true allowance for them, nothing about aiming at a
neutral-colored object that blended with its sur-
roundings. Our men were "crackajacks" at drilling
a squirrel's head, but only the few who took regular
hunting trips in the wilderness had any idea of what
kind of a thing to look for if they went after deer
or any other big game.
—
Rifle Practice. Times have changed. Civil-
ians now can join clubs that have the use of mili-
tary ranges, where they can use practical weapons
supplied by the Government, at known and unknown
distances, deliberate fire and quick fire, resting at
ease or after a skirmish run. They may, if they
choose, rig up "running deer" targets. All this is
excellent practice for one preparing to go after big
game.
If you are so situated that you cannot join such
a club, nor use a powerful rifle in your neighborhood,
get a repeating .22, learn first to drive tacks with it
(in a city basement, if need be), then take it out
somewhere that is safe for the purpose, and shoot at
miscellaneous objects, at unknown distances all the
way from twenty hundred yards. If you can
to a
get a friend to roll a barrel for you down a bumpy
hillside, try it at various angles —
good training be-
fore you go to shoot at deer on the bound.
It is nractice. intellieentlv varied nractice. that
;
MARKSMANSHIP IN THE WOODS 175
makes a marksman. Without it, the keenest eye and

the steadiest nerve are of no avail. I have associated
intimately with expert riflemen for half a lifetime,
and I know that every one of them wôuld tell you
that there ''is no such animal" as a born marksman.
There never was. If frontiersmen generally are
good shots it is simply because they have had plenty
of practice from their youth up. Some have natural
advantages over others, to be sure, but nothing wîll
take the place of training. It is like writing, for
instance anybody of average sense can learn to write
:
correctly, many can write entertainingly, a few have

genius and may become immortal —
but no genius
who ever lived has turned out first-class work at the
he had to practice, practice, practice!
first trial:
There is no room here to discuss the topic of
hunting rifles. Get the best that you can, of course
but do not wôrship it. Bear in mind that, whatever
its trajectory and smashing quality, it is only a gun,
and can kill nothing that you miss with it. When
you get into the real wilderness far away from rich
men's preserves and summer hotels; you will find
there some mighty hunters who make mighty kills
with guns that would bring only the price of scrap-
iron in New York.
Get sights that you can see, and such as you are
not likely to overshoot with when taking quick aim.
1'ake pains to get what suits your eyes, and spare
no time in the adjustment. Never take an untried
gun into the woods. That is no place to align sights
and test elevations. Never trust the sights as they
are placed on the gun Test them not
at the factory.
only from rest, but offhand, too; for a light rifle
charged with high-power ammunition is likely to
shoot several inches higher (or in some other direc-
tion) when fired from muzzle-and-elbow rest, than
it does when shot oiEfhand, albeit it may be an ac-
curate wêapon when rightly used.

—
Sight Adjustment. Now, as for adjusting the
elevation —
a most important matter first, by aU —
TTcans, find the **point-blank" of your weapon by
^fl.rrii;if te9,iy If vnur rlenler a<;siires voii that a cer^
tain shoots practically point-blank up to 300
rifle
yards, ''trust him not; he's fooling thee." Theo-
retically there is no such thing as a point-blank
range. Practically, what we mean by it is the ex-
treme distance to which a rifle may be sighted to
strike center without overshooting at any inter-
mediate distance the vitals of the animal to be
hunted.
Why a bullet rises above the line of aim and stays
above it until it reaches a point for which the sights
were set, and then falls below it, if not stopped how
;
much it does so, at various ranges and with various

tj^pes of ammunition; how to determine the best
point-blank for different kinds of hunting: these are
matters that would require a good many pages to
explain. ( See the writer's Sporting Firearms, in the
series of ''Outing Handbooks").

In the big-game fields of the East and South,
which generally are thickly timbered or bushy cut-
over !ands, it is seldom that one gets a shot at over
60 or 70 yards, unless he is in the mountains or on
the m.argin of a lake or river. Even an old-
fashioned rifle, using ammunition of, say 1,300 feet
muzzle velocity per second, if sighted accurately for
50 yards, will not drop its bullet more than two
inches at 75 yards, and at 25 yards you need only
diaw a wee bit fine to cut off the head of a grouse
or squirrel. Fifty yards, then, is a good elevation
at which to set the rear sight of such a gun. A
.30-30, or other rifle of the 2,000 feet M. V. class,
shoots to this same "practical point-blank" up to 100
yards when sighted for 75 yards.
In other words, the hunter need make no allow-
ance for distance, in aiming, up to these respective
ranges, except when shooting at small game close
by. This is why so many old hunters east of the
Mississippi take little or no interest in guns more
powerful than the kinds here mentioned. They
don't feel the need of anything better. If they
should unexpectedly have to take a long shot, and
do it quickly, they simply draw a coarse bead, or
In the West it is different. Much of the game

country is open. Often you can't get close by stalk-
ing. Shots at 200 yards are common, and much
longer ones can be made successfully by a well-
trained marksman armed with a very accurate rifle
that drives its bullet at a high and well-sustained
velocity. I emphasize the words "accurate" and
"well-sustained" because there are many rifles that
are inaccurate beyond 100 or 150 yards, and that
start their bullets swiftly but do not maintain a
high velocity beyond short range. Their trajectory
figures are illusory, because trajectory means only
the average or mean height of bullet flight above
line of fire at such and such intermediate distances.
Take, for example, a .30-30 sighted for 200 yards.
Its trajectory at 100 yards is given in the tables
ss 5.79 inches above line of fire; but, as a matter
of fact, the shots vary so much at 100 yards that
they may go anywhere from 3.40 to 8.40 inches
high; at 250 yards, with same aim, they may drop
anywhere from 2.25 below line of
to 14.75 inches
fire.Yet the .30-30 considered a fairly accurate
is
cartridge: there are others, with short, snub-nosed

bullets, that shoot much worse.
Now, by contrast, let us consider a gun that shoots
swift and true at all ranges, for instance one using
our Springfield ammunition. I take the liberty of
quoting from Captain Whelen the following
table of such a rifle's actual performance, with 150-
grain bullet, when sighted for 200 yards, and some
of his comments thereon:
Trajectory Range in Yards
100 200 225 300
Above line of fire, in. ... 2.5 .... ....
Below line of fire, in 1-9 9.
Sight allowance, in 5 .12 .5
Above line of aim, in. ... 2. .... ....
Below line of aim, in 2.02 9.5
Mean vertical deviation,
inches 8 1.6 1.8 2.4
Greatest deviation from
point of aim, with
rans^ \ine=timat^d, in. .. 2.8 1.6 3-82 11.9
''From this table, with the sights adjusted cor-
rectly for 200 yards and using the service ammuni-
tion, wecan arrive at the following facts: Suppose
one has not time to think of estimating the exact
range, or has not the talent to do so. But he thinks
his quarry is about 200 yards off. He fires. If the
game was at 100 yards the greatest error he need
expect is a hit 2.8 inches above the point aimed at.
If the game was exactly at 200 yards then only the
error of the rifle and ammunition need be counted
on which is 1.6 inches either above or below. If
again the game was at 225 yards the greatest devia-
tion would be a hit 3.82 inches below the point
aimed In other words, with the sights thus ad-
at.
justed one would be sure to hit within the vital 8-
inch disk at all ranges up to 225 yards, provided
always of course that his sights were correctly
aligned at the center of the disk at the instant of
discharge. At no point during its flight, would the
trajectory and the accuracy error, together, carry the
bullet over three inches above the line of aim, and
at 225 yards it would hit but 3.82 inches low.
Should the range be over 225 yards, the visual angle
subtended by the game, that is its appearance, will
be so small that the hunter will not risk a snap shot
but will instinctively proceed to take all those pre-
cautions necessary for a long range shot including a
careful estimate of the range and wind direction and
velocity and an accurate setting of the sights for
those estimates.
''Thus, for all around work in hunting with the
Springfield rifle, using the service cartridge, in order
to attain the highest eflSciency and the greatest chance
for a properly placed hit, we should use three ad-
justments of the rear sight, as follows:
For small game at close range 40 yards
For apparently easy shots at large game 200 yards
For apparently hard, long shots at any
game The estimated range."
The "vital 8-inch disk" refers to an expression I

used in the book Guns, Ammunition, and Tackle \
"Let us say that an 8-inch disk represents that part
of a deer in which a bullet may be counted on to
inflict a mortal wound ; then the deer's killing zone
would be that distance throughout which the tra-
jectory of the bullet wôuld cut an 8-inch disk. For
open country, where long shots are the rule, the rifle
may then be sighted for an extreme rise of 4 inches
above line of aim, and the killing zone for deer will
extend to that point where the descending bullet falls
4 inches below line of aim. Remember that line of
aim or sight is different from line of fire (prolonga-
tion of axis of bore)." If the top of front sight
stands one inch above axis of bore, then you subtract,
from the midway trajectory one-half inch, and make
proportional allowances at other points intermediate
or beyond the range sighted for. In all targeting
to determine point-blank you must aim exactly on the
point to be hit —
not at lower edge of a buUseye, but
at its center.
The old-fashioned practice of ''drawing coarse"
for a long shot is guesswork. novice is almost A
sure to overdo it. An experienced hunter may do
very well that way, so long as he uses rifle and am-
munition that he is thoroughly familiar with but let ;
him change to something different and he must learn

all over again. That is one reason why many ex-
pert hunters are old-fogyish about arms and ammuni-
tion. On the other hand, there is no guesswork in
the system of determining a "practical point-blank"
and then aiming straight at the spot you want to
hit. It "gets the meat" with certainty always pro- —
vided, my brother, that you hold true and draw trig-
ger without jerk or quiver.
It is not nearly so much the "make" of rifle as
the load it takes that determines the gun's shooting
qualities. So, choose first a cartridge, then a gun to
hiindle it. For example, the Springfield cartridge is
a good one for big game but you can

at all ranges ;
use it in rifles of several different makes, and most

of them will do the same work with it. The old
.44-40 is still a good cartridge for brush-shooting at
deer, but a mighty poor one beyond lOO yards, no
matter what kind of a rifle it is shot out of. And
so we might go on through the whole maze of am-
munition lists. But how to choose a cartridge?
Well, here are two rules that will help a good deal:
( 1 ) No cartridge is accurate be3ônd a very
moderate distance unless the bullet is at least
3 calibers long for .25 caliber bullets,

2^2 calibers long for .30 to .35 caliber bullets,
2 calibers long for .40 to .45 caliber bullets,
\y^ calibers long for .50 caliber bullets.
(2) No accurate at high speed unless

bullet is
it either is long and heavy or has fine lines forward,
as one would say of a boat.

—
Hunters' Maxims. This is not an essay on
hunting, but in trying to give an idea of how marks-
manship in the woods differs from marksmanship on
the range, it may help a beginner to understand just
what is meant if I first state certain maxims of the
still-hunter's craft:
(i) Hunt one kind of animal at a time, and
think of //.
(2) Know its strong points and its weak ones.

(3) Know where to hunt and where not to.
(4) Choose favorable ground.

(5) Consider the animal's daily habits.
(6) Know just what to look for.
(7) Maneuver according to a definite plan.
(8) Work against the wind, or across it.
(9) Move noiselessly and reconnoiter carefully.

(10) Try to see the game before it sees you.
(11) Keep cool.
(12) Never fire at anything until you are abso-
lutely certain not a human being.
it is
(13) Never fire a shot that is not the best you can
possibly do.
(14) After firing, reload instantly.
(15) If you wound an animal, don't follow im-
mediately upon its track, unless you are sure It Is
shot through the heart.
(16) Be patient over ill-luck, and keep on try-
ing.
MARKSMANSHIP IN THE WOODS i8i
Serve your apprenticeship under a guide. He can

teach you more in a week than you could learn
by
yourself in a year. There are, however, two books
that every beginner ought to study before he goes to
the woods: Van Dyke's Still Hunter and Brunner's
Tracks and Tracking/, both of them far and away
ahead of anything else on their respective subjects.
Don't try to memorize, but read and re-read until
the lessons have soaked in. They will make it
much easier for you to understand your guides
movements and directions (but don't quote your
book-learning to him, or to anybody else).
After you have learned something of woodcraft
by actual experience in company, make a practice of
going alone and putting it to the proof. In still-
hunting, two men working together make

four times
They more
as much noise as one wôuld by himself.
than double the risk of alarming the game by
their
scent, as they seldom will be right together. And

each relies too much on the other.
"Tom may
jump one to me" is a thought that has spoiled many
a hunt (and hunter) You
. don't want any Tom to
that is what
think about: you wânt to think deer, if
you are after. . , . ,
What To Look For.—Wild animals in the

at all like the same species do in
woods do not look
captivity or in picture-books. Only at rare intervals
does one see a buck in the open posed like Land-

picture
seer's "Stag at Bay," and when he does, the
isaltogether different. The buck's coloration blends
with his surroundings. You never see him in stark
relief unless he be on a ridge, outlined against the
sky, or somewhere with a broad
sheet of water for
a background. Nor does he carry his head erect,

or browsing
unless suspicious, startled, challenging,
en branches that hang above him.
Adeer is always hard to see unless he
be out m
the open, or in the water, or on the
jump. Gener-
ally its body is half hidden, or more
than half, by un-
derbrush or intervening trees. So what
you wânt to
whole, but for spots of
look for is not an animal as a
leaden gray (the "blue" coat of autumn and winter)
of no particular shape. The spot may seem fairly va-
porous, like fog. Of course if the animal moves, you
wîll see it, but probably not until it is sneaking
stealthily but swiftly away. Then there are trees
in the way, and brush; your footing may not be
secure; the light may be shining in your eyes; and,
with it all, you must shoot quickly, or lose the op-
portunity. Under such circumstances it is absurdly
easy to miss a full-grown deer at twenty paces. So
try to see the game before it sees you. Quite like-
ly you won't; but if you have maneuvered against
the wind so that the animal has not caught your
scent, it may stay quietly hidden, trusting in the
cover of the shrubs, or it may hesitate long enough
for you to raise your gun before it moves.
Running Shots. —A deer does not gallop unless
a dog is after it. When fleeing from a man it com-
monly goes at an indescribably easy and graceful
lope, varied at every few bounds by a high, long
leap. It does not seem to be exerting itself, yet it
goes pretty fast. Having got out of the immediate
neighborhood, it subsides into a trot or amble, and
then stops, looks backward, and scents the air, to
find if it is pursued.
Now a deer on the jump is hard to hit. The
points to be observed are To be as alert at all times
:
as though you were hunting grouse without a dog;

to get your gun in position the instant that you see
the game; to pick out, as quick as lightning, a clear
space through which to fire; but, above all things,
not to shoot until you are absolutely certain that it
is game you are shooting at; and then to dwell on
the aim just long enough to see your bead clearly

and to hold for a vital spot. Beyond that, do not
hesitate the fraction of a second. To give a novice
an idea, I would say that three or four seconds is
a fair average interval between raising the rifle and
firing, when a deer has been jumped in the forest.
It is not so much the hands, but the eyes and brain,
that must be quick, very quick.
MARKSMANSHIP IN i HH. wuuu:^ loj
When a deer Is running In the open, follow It with

the rifle about as you would a bird with a shotgun
only don't "lead," that Is, consciously. At a hundred
will reach him in the
yards, a high-velocity bullet
four feet, it your
time that it takes him to go, say,
to hold
rifle isswinging with him, you don t have
running deer are at a
ahead. And most shots at
Try to catch him as he
shorter distance than that.
of a jump. Anyway,
strikes the ground at the end
too high. Most of the time he is
beware of firing
"hugging the ground" pretty close.
swing with him—
In thick timber, don't try to
Pick out an open-
you can't see him well enough.
the instant his head
incr that he will cross, and
fire
(this a general idea
crosses above your front sight
is
ihen
—"lead " In this case, depends on distance),
whack into
you will, at least, not send your
bullet
an intervening tree.
a stand-
Although one may often get a chance for
best to spend most of one s
yet I think it Is
ing shot,
in snap-shooting. hJy
target ammunition (at home)
snap-shooting with the rifle I do not
mean merely
the sights.
glancing along a barrel and disregarding
You must see your bead, and, in case of open
sights,
well down in the
you must see' that the bead is
press the trigger
notch; but It Is snap-shooting to
when it first touches, or rather when it
instantly
the object that you want to hit,
swings close to,
instead of waiting to swing back
and steady down,
io
as one would do when aiming deliberately.
pulling ott
snap-shoot at the right instant, without
to one side, is a fine art. ^
the
The main trouble, in such cases, is to select
then to find over the
ri-^ht spot to shoot at, and
it
example, the color is so

sights. With a deer, for
the outlines are so indistinct,
even in
neutral and
good JIght, man's eyes can seldom distin-
that a
guish the exact spot that he wants

to hit- He
general bulk oJ-
judges where it must be, from the
the animal ajid the position in
which it is presented.
shots, even at a con»
Where To Aim.— Standing
—
siderable distance, call for no comment, as they are
comparatively easy, in good light, for anyone who
has been well trained on the rifle range at home
provided he does not get "buck ague."
For a broadside shot, the best point to aim at is
immediately behind the shoulder and only one-third
of the way up from breast to withers — that is, where
the heart lies. When the body is presented in any
other position, shoot, as a rule, at such a point that
the bullet, in ranging forward, will pass through or
close to the heart. When an animal stands looking
at me as a deer often will when it comes in on a
runway and one bleats or whistles at it, my favorite
shot is the neck. A bullet passing through any
animal's neck, near the center, is almost sure to
strike a paralyzing, knock-out blow, because it can
scarcely miss a vital part.
Aim low when shooting downhill, because then
you see more of the upper side of the animal than
you ordinarily would. A shot high up is seldom
fatal, unless you hit the spine. In making long
shots downhill, do not forget that the only distance
to be allowed for is that from the mark to a point
directly under you and level with the mark.
Aim dead-on when shooting uphill, unless the
range is greater than your rifle is sighted for on a
level. The extra allowance for "lift" is so trifling
at ordinary ranges that you had better disregard it
than overdo the matter.
Don't rely on "raining lead." The man who does
his "darndest" with the first shot is the one who gets
most venison in the long run. But reload instantly,
and be ready, if necessary, to follow up without hesi-
tation. Shoot until the animal is down, or while it
remains in view.
If a deer is not hit, it goes off with its "flag"
(white underside of tail) in the air. If hit, it may
or may not clap its tail down. When struck in the
rear half of the body (unless through the spine,
which is a knock-out) it will likely kick out its hind
legs, and there is some long trailing ahead of you.
Even when shot through the heart, a deer may run

a hundred yards or more; but when it drops it is
dead. If you are sure that it was a heart shot,
follow up at once, but if you are not, then wait a

good while. A wounded deer, when it finds it is
not followed, is likely to lie down ; then it gets stiff
and weak from loss of blood. Give it time for this
before you go after it. Don't follow directly on its
tracks, for it will watch backward as long as it can
hold its head up, and will run again, if possible, the
instant it finds itself followed. Go in half-circles,
to side, then in to the trail, out again, and so on,
one
until you have headed it on the leeward side.
—
Buck Fever. History mercifully does not rec-
ord how many thousand big and bewhiskered armed
men, at their first sight of big game, have stood or
sat with mouth wide open, gazing at the thing,
oblivious to everything else on earth, including the
loaded gun in the hand. If a deer only could wink
one eye!
Buck ague is different. With
the victim knows
it,
it is a deer before him, and knows but

too well that
he has a gun. But he also has as bad a case of
''shakes" as a toper after a long spree. This afflic-
tion may overcome a rifleman in any kind of hunt-
ing, but it is most likely to seize upon the novice
when he is sitting on a stand and hears the dogs
baying toward him. It is hard on a fellow's nerves
to sit there, praying with all his soul that the bear
may not run some other wây, and yet half doubt-
ful of his own ability to head it off if it does come
his way. The chances are that it will by no means
run over him, but that it will come crashing through
the brush at some point on one side, toward which
he will have to run with all his might and main be-
fore firing. Now if he does let that bear go
through, after all the hard work of dogs and drivers,
his shirt-tail will be amputated that night by his
comrades and hung from a high pole in the midst
of the camp —
a flag of distress indeed Who !
wouldn't get buck ague in the face of such alterna-

tive?
— ;

It hard on a fellow's nerves, I say, to hear
is
those dogs coming toward him, and to know from

the racket that a bear is certainly ahead of them, but
7iot to know w^here or when the' brute may emerge,
nor what infernal trees or thickets and downwood
may be in the way. Can you hit him ? That is thq
question. The honor of the camp is on your should-
ers. Ah, me it is easy to follow the pack on horse-
!
—
back to chase after something that is running away.
But to sit here clenching your teeth while at any
moment a hard-pressed and angry bear may burst
out of the thicket and find you in his way noth^ —
ing but you between him and near-by freedom
gentlemen, it tests nerve!
Buck ague is not the effect of fear. In fact, fear
has nothing to do with it. It is a tremor and a gal-
loping of the heart that comes from over-anxiety
lest you should fail to score. Precisely the same
seizure may come upon you on the target range.
That is the only place that I ever experienced it.
There is no telling when have

it may strike. I
known seasoned sportsmen to be victimized by it.
Yet, when the critical moment does come, it often
turns out that the man who has been shaking like
a leaf from pent-up anxiety suddenly grows cold and
steady as a rock. Especially is this apt to be the
case when a fighting beast comes suddenly in view.
Instantly the man's primeval instincts are aroused
his fighting blood comes to the surface the spirit of ;
some warrior ancestor (dead, maybe, these thousand

years) possesses and sways your mild-eyed modern
man, and he who trembled but a moment ago now
leaps into the combat with a wild joy playing on
his heart strings.
CHAPTER XII
AXEMANSH IP— QUALITIES AND UTIL-

IZATION OF WOOD
Next to the rifle, a backwoodsman's main reliance
is on his axe. With these two instruments, and
little else, our pioneers attacked the forest wilderness
that once covered all eastern America, and won it for
civilization.
In the clearing and in lumber works the favorite
axe is a double-bitt with 4^
to 5-pound head. One
blade is ground thin and kept whetted keen, for
chopping in clear timber. The other is left with
more bevel, as that is advantageous in splitting, and
the edge, although sharp, is rather stunt, so that it
will not shiver against a knot, or nick badly when
driven through into the earth, as may happen when
cutting through roots. A
professional chopper, who
works only at felling trees and cutting off *'lops"
(the branching tops) will grind both blades thin.
For him, too, the double-bitt is best, since most of
its weight is back in line with the cutting edge, and
ro it bites deep, although driven with little force.

The helve of such an axe, of course, is straight, and
one bought at a store should be shaved considerably
thinner on both sides; then it is not so clumsy, lies
jn the hands more compactly, does not cramp the
fingers and will not jar the hands, as it has some
spring.
Adouble-bitted axe is dangerous in any but ex-
pert hands — —
more so than a loaded gun and would
be a menace lying around in camp, for, even when
stuck in a tree or chopping-block, one edge is al-
ways exposed. I have given elsewhere (Vol. I., pp.
187
113-114) other reasons why a light single-bitt is the
best axe for a camper, and have told how to select
such a tool and care for it.
Grinding Axes. —A
new axe must be ground be-
fore it is fit for use. Do this on a grindstone (or have
it done where they have a power grindstone) using
water freely so the steel will not overheat. The

average **cutler and grinder" in a city would make a
quick job of it on an emery wheel, and ruin the
temper. Since you will do much more chopping
than splitting, you want the blade thin. Start
grinding wêll back on the blade, and work out to
the edge until most of the bevel has been ground
oft, but leave a little of it between the center and
the outside corner that is, the blade should be thick-
;
est at a point a little beyond the center, so it will

not "bind" (stick fast in wood) and so that it will
spring a chip loose. Then whet off the wire edge
with a stone. Make or buy a leather sheath for the
axe-head, riveted to prevent cutting through (see
illustrations in outfitters' catalogues).
Fitting Axe-Helves. —A
broken axe-helve is
not an uncommon accident in the woods, and it is a
very serious one until a new helve is made and fitted.
Now itsometimes happens that the stub of the old
handle cannot be removed by ordinary means: it
must be burnt out. To do this without drawing
the temper of the steel might seem impracticable;
but the thing is as simple as rolling off a log, when
you see it done. Pick out a spot where the earth is
free from pebbles, and drive the blade of the axe
into the ground up to the eye. Then build a fire
—
around the axe-head that is all. If the axe is
double-bitted, dig a little trench about six inches
deep and the width of the axe-eye, or a little more.
Lay the axe flat over it, cover both blades with
two inches of earth, and build a small fire on top.
In making a new axe-helve, do not bother to make
a crooked one like the store pattern. Thousands
of expert axemen use, from preference, straight
handles in their axes — single-bitted axes at that-
AXEMAiNSHIP 189
I have seen such handles full four feet long, to be

used chiefly in logging-up big trees. Two feet eight
inches is long enough for ordinary chopping. To
smooth any article made of wood, when you
have no sandpaper, use loose sand in a piece of leather
or buckskin.
end of the helve before driving it
Split the eye
in. Make the wedge thin, and of even taper.
Leave a little of it protruding, at first, for green
wood soon will shrink and you must tighten it up.
How To —
Chop. To be expert with the axe, one
must have been trained to it from boyhood. A
novice, however, can learn to do much better than
bungle if he observes a few simple directions, watches
a good chopper, and uses his wits in trying to "catch
on."
Practice until you can hit the same spot repeated-
ly. Precision, rhythmical strokes, good judgment as
to where a cut will do the most good these are the
;
main points to strive after.

Beginners Invariably over-exert themselves In
chopping, and are soon blown. An accurate stroke
counts for much more than a heavy but blundering
one. A good chopper lands one blow exactly on
top of the other with the precision and regularity
of a machine ; he chops slowly but rhythmically, and
puts little more effort into striking than he does into
lifting his axe for the blow. Trying to sink the
axe deeply at every stroke is about the hardest work
that a man can do, and it spoils accuracy.
Try your axe first on saplings up to six inches in
diameter. Alittle one Is downed with two strokes.
Bend It over so Its fiber is strained on one side, hit
It a clip w4th the axe In one hand, then similarly
on the other side. A larger one Is notched on each

side, like a tree (see below) but does not need to
nave the large notch blocked out.
When cutting saplings that are to be dragged to
camp, throw them with tops In the opposite direction
from camp, so they can easily be dragged out by the
butts; otherwise you will have to slew them around
so the branches will not catch in everything.
igo CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Before starting to fell a tree, clear away all un-
derbrush and vines that are within reach of the
extended axe, overhead as well as around you.
Neglect of this precaution may cripple a man for
life.
Felling a Tree. — Before starting to chop down
a decide in which direction you wish it to fall.
tree,
This will be governed partly by the lay of the
ground and the obstacles on it. The tree should
fall where it will be easy to log up. Most trees
lean more or less out of plumb, or have a heavier
growth of branches on one side than on the other.
If there is nothing to interfere, drop it on the side
^
;
l\
36. — Felling Fig. 37. —Boggled Fig 38. —True

Tree Notch Notch
toward which it is naturally inclined to fall. In a

thick forest, throw it in such direction that it will
not lodge on some other tree in falling. It is both
difficult and dangerous for anyone but an expert to
bring down a lodged tree. Don't try to throw a
tree against the wind, if there is a strong breeze
blowing.
Now, suppose you decide to throw the tree to the
south. First cut a notch (kerf) on the south side
of the tree, half way through the trunk (A in Fig.
36). A
novice would make this notch by starting
with a small nick and laboriously enlarging it by
AXEMANSHIP 191
whacking out from the upper side one layer of chips

after another. Soon he would be driving his axe in
at too sharp an angle, and his work would grow
harder and harder as he got to cutting more and
more nearly straight across the grain (Fig. 37).
Finally the inside of the notch would get so narrow
that he would wedge his axe fast. The right way
is shown in Fig. 38. Make a nick at a as guide
then another at h, a little higher above a than half
the thickness of the tree. Chop alternately at these
notches, and split out the block c with a downward
blow of the axe. Proceed in this way until the
notch finished, making as big chips as you can.
is
A green axeman is known by the finely minced chips

and haggled stump that he leaves.
If the tree is of such wood as is easy to cut, make
the cut ae as nearly square across the butt as you can.
To do this keep the hand that holds the hilt of the
axe-helve well down. But if the tree is hard and
stubborn to fell, or if you are rustling firewood
in a hurry, it is easier to make this cut in a slanting
direction, so as not to chop squarely across the
grain, and then make the opposite one diagonally
across it.
Having finished this south kerf (which is two-

thirds the labor of felling the tree), now
begin the
opposite one, h, at a point three or four inches higher
than the other. By studying the diagram, and tak-
ing into account the tree's great weight, you can see
why this method will infallibly throw the tree where
you want it, if it stands anywhere near perpendicu-
lar, and if there is not a contrary wind blowing.
Comparatively few blows are needed here. When
the tree begins to crack, step to one side. Never
jump which the tree
in a direction opposite that in
falls. Many a man
has been killed in that wây.
Sometimes a falling tree, striking against one of its
neighbors, shoots backward from the stump like
lightning. Look out, too, for shattered limbs.
If a tree leans in the wrong direction for your
purpose, insert a billet of wood in the kerf B. and
drive a wedge or two above it in the direction of the
kerf. A weighing many tons can be forced
tree
to fall in any desired direction by the proper use of
wedges; and a good axeman, in open woods, can
throw a tree with such accuracy as to drive a stake
previously stuck in the ground at an agreed position.
He can even do this when a considerable wind is
blowing, by watching the sway of the tree and strik-
ing his final blow at the right moment.
—
Logging Up. When the tree is down, trim off
the branches for firewood, if the stuff is good for
right .wrong
9»
J^w^J^^^^^^^^^^^^P^t^^^
^^xr.
Fig. 39. — Logging Up

fuel (on the fuel values of trees see Vol. L, pp.
236-239). Then log up the trunk. When a nov-
ice tries to cut a log in two he stands in front of it
and chops on the farther side until he has most of
it and a good part of the top hacked out. Then
he realizes that he is "up against it," for he cannot
turn the tree over to get at the under side. The
axeman must stand on the prostrate trunk, with his
legs well apart, and cut down between his feet.
This, to a beginner, looks like a risky performance;
yet I have seen* one of my woodland neighbors, who
professes to be "only a triflin' hand with an axe,"
stand on a slender tree-trunk that was balanced
about ten feet over a gulch, whack away between his
feet, with the trunk swaying several inches at every
stroke, nor did he step over on the main trunk until
two or three light "draw cuts" sufficed to cut the
end log free. But such a performance is tame
compared with the feats of axemanship that regu-
lar choppers and river drivers do every day as a mere
matter of course.
Make the outside chip not less in length than the
AXEMANSHIP 193
diameter of the log. This will seem absurdly long,
until you have struggled futilely to "nigger" a log
in two. Make two outside nicks, as in felling a
tree, split out the block between them, and so go on,
f
making big chips, and cutting at a considerable angle
to the grain of the wood instead of across it. Chop
straight down, so that when you get to the center
of the trunk the bottom of your kerf will be per-
pendicular (Fig. 39). Usually the trunk Is held
a little off the ground by broken limbs on the under
side of the top. If not, then, when you work close
to the ground, look out for pebbles (rather scrape
them away beforehand). A nick in the axe will
make your wôrk doubly hard. Before felling a tree
on stony ground it is well worth while to place a
small log across the way for the butt of the tree to
fall on, so as to keep it off the ground.
Speaking of nicks in the axe, beware of cutting
into hemlock or balsam knots; in trimming limbs
close to such trees you can ruin the best steel that
ever was made, for they are almost as hard as glass
If it must be done, strike gentle blows; hold tht
axe-head exactly perpendicular to the spot struck,

and rigid, so it cannot glance in the least. The trick
is similar to that of driving a bowie through a
silver dollar without spoiling the knife's edge.
Having cut one notch half through the trunk, go
on to the next ones until the end piece is reached;
then turn around and work back until all cuts have
been severed.
In working up crooked branches into firewood
lengths, have something solid under the spot to be
cut. If you don't, sometime a billet will fly up and
hit you in the face. I have seen more than one
man who had lost an eye in thatway.
—
Sawing. If there is a sharp and wêll set cross-
cut saw in the outfit, it makes the work of felling
and logging a great deal easier. The veriest tvro
194 CAMPTxNG AND WOODCRAFT
can soon learn to saw tolerably well. Observe that
your sole duties are to pull and help guide the saw
straight. If you push, as one would with a buck-
saw, the other fellow may let you do all the work.
If you don't do your share of the pulling, your
partner, if he be a woodsman, is apt to remonstrate
*'Say, you! I don't mind you riding the saw, but
don't drag your feet."
To fell with a saw, first cut a small notch with
the axe on the side toward which you want the tree
to fall. Then saw from the opposite side, begin-
ning a little higher than the notch, and sawing
diagonally down to meet it. When the saw gets
well into the wood it will begin to bind from the
weight of the tree. Then relieve it by driving a
wêdge or glut into the kerf behind the saw. Drive
the wedge in still farther as you progress, and it
will tilt the tree in the right direction. When you
hear the first premonitory crack, or see that the tree
is near the toppling point, one man will quickly re-
move the handle at his end the other will saw away
;
until the tree sways, and then pull the saw out. A
log should be laid for the butt to fall on.
In sawing up large logs, wedges are used in the
same way to keep the saw running free.
—
Qualities of Woods. The working qualities of
common woods ought to be known by every one
who has occasion to use timber, and especially by a
woodsman, who may at any time be driven to shifts
in which a mistake in choosing material may have
disagreeable consequences. A few simple tables are
here given, which, it is hoped, may be of assistance.
Only common native trees are included. The data
refer to the seasoned wood only, except where green
is specified. Such tables might easily be extended,
but mine are confined to the qualities of most ac-
count to campers and explorers, and to trees native
to the region north of Georgia and east of the
Rocky Mountains.
AXEMAN SHIP 195
Very Hard Woods

Persimmon,
Osage Orange (hardest),
Dogwood, Hickory,
Service-berry,
Black Haw,
Yellow Locust, Black Jack Oak,
Oak, Chestnut Oak,
Post
Overcup Oak, Mountain Laurel,
Sugar Maple, Winged Elm.
Crab-Apple,
Hard Woods
Pecan,
Other Oaks,
Hornbeam, Black Birch,
Hackberry,
Ash,
Elm, Plum,
Sourwood,
Cherry,
Beech,
Sour Gum,
Tupelo,
Walnut,
Silver Maple,
Red-bud,
Mulberry,
Red Maple,
Holly,
Honey Locust,
Sycamore, Yellow Birch.
Yellow Pine,
Very Soft Woods
Spruce,
Balsam Fir,
Catalpa,
Balsam Poplar,
Buckeye,
White Pine, Basswood,
Pawpaw, (softest),
Arbor-vitae
Aspen,
(Common woods not mentioned above are of
medium softness.)
Very Strong Woods

Yellow Locust, Pignut Hickory,
Birch, Chestnut Oak,
Yellow
Black Birch,
Shingle Oak,
Shellbark Hickory, Spanish Oak,
Yellow Pine, Sugar Maple,
Hornbeam, Beech,
Service-berry,
Osage Orange,
Bitternut Hickory.
Big-bud Hickory,
Basket Oak,
Strong Woods
Other Oaks,
Rock Elm,
Water Locust,
Paper Birch, Chinquapin,
Silver Maple,
Red Birch,
Honey Locust,
Tamarack,
Dogwood, Loblolly Pine,
Ash,
196 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFl
Persimmon, Slippery Elm,
Plum, Black Walnut,
White Elm, Sour Gum,
Cherry, Red Maple.
Red Pine,
Very Stiff Woods
Yellow Birch, Yellow Pine,
Sugar Maple, Black Birch,
Spanish Oak, Shellbark Hickory,
Hornbeam, Overcup Oak,
Paper Birch, Yellow Locust,
Tamarack, Beech.
Very Tough Woods

Beech, Water Oak,
Osage Orange, Tupelo.
Tough Woods
Black Ash, White Ash,
Basswood, Paper Birch,
Yellow Birch, Cottonwood,
Dogwood, Elm,
Sour Gum, Hickory,
Hornbeam, Liquidambar,
Basket Oak, Bur Oak,
Overcup Oak, Swamp White Oak,
Yellow Pine, Tamarack.
Black Walnut,
(Saplings generally are tougher than mature treej
of the same species.)
Woods that Split Easily

Arbor-vitae, White Birch,
Basswood, Black Birch (green).
Cedar, Dogwood (green).
Chestnut, Balsam Fir,
Slippery Elm (green), Basket Oak,
Hackberry, White Oak,
The Soft Pines, Red Oak,
Spruce, Shingle Oak,
Ash, Black Oak,
Beech (when green). Water Oak.
Woods Difficult to Split

Blue Ash (seasoned), Box Elder,
Buckeye, Wild Cherry,
White Elm, Winged Elm (uEwedge*
Sour Gum, able),
AXEMANSHIP 197
Liqiiidambar, Hemlock,
Sug-arMaple (seasoned), Honey Locust (seasoned),
Tupelo (unvvedgeable). Sycamore.
Woods that Separate Easily into Thin Layers
Black Ash, Basket Oak.
Flexible, Pliable Woods

Basswood, Elm,
Hackberry, Big-bud Hickory,
Red-bud, Yellow Poplar.
Witch Hazel,
Springy PVoods
Black Ash, White Ash,
Hickory, Ho'/nbeam,
Honey Locust, Yellow Locust,
White Oak, Osage Orang-e,
Service-berry, Spruce.
Woods Easily Wrought
Basswood, Black Birch,
Paper Birch, Red Birch,
Buckeye, Butternut,
Catalpa, Cedar,
Cherry, Chestnut,
Cottonwood, Cypress,
Hackberry, Red Maple,
Silver Maple, White Pine,
Yellow Poplar, Black Walnut.
Compact Woods {Not Liable to Check)

Arbor-vitae, Red Mulberry,
The Ashes, Basket Oak,
The Aspens, Bur Oak,
Basswood, Willow Oak,
Balsam Fir, Pecan,
The Birches (except Persimmon,
White Bir/:h), Gray Pine,
Box Elder, Jersey Pine,
Buckeye, Long-leaved Pine,
Butternut, Pitch Pine,
Catalpa, Red Pine,
The Cedars (very), Short-leaved Pine,
The Cherries, White Pine,
Cucumber, The Poplars,
The Elms, Red-bud,
Hackberry, Silver-bell,
Big Shellbark Hickory, Sorrel Tree,
Water Hickory, The Spruces,
Holly (very), Tamarack,
Hop Hornbeam, The Thorns,
Laurel (very), Witch Hazel,
The Magnolias, Yellow Wood.
The Maples,
Woods Liable to Check in Seasoning
Beech, White Birch,
Chestnut, Crab-apple,
Dogwood, Sour Gum,
Hickory (except Shellbark)Hornbeam,
Yellow Locust, Most Oaks,
Sassafras, Sycamore.
Black Walnut,
Woods Liable to Shrink and Warp
Chestnut, Cottonwood,
White Elm, Sour Gum
Hemlock, Shellbark Hickory,
Liquidambar, Pin Oak,
Loblolly Pine, Sycamore.
Yellow Poplar,
Woods Difficult to Season
Beech, Cottonwood,
Sour Gum, Sugar Maple,
Red Oak, Rock Chestnut Oak,
Water Oak, Osage Orange,
Woods that Can Be Obtained in Wide Boards

Free from Knots
Basswood, Cottonwood,
Cypress, Yellow Poplar,
Woods Durable in Soil, Water and Weather

Arbor-vitae, Butternut,
Catalpa, Cedar,
Cherry, Chestnut,
Cucumber, Cypress,
Slippery Elm, Hop Hornbeam,
Juniper, Kentucky Coffee Tree
Honey Locust, Yellow Locust,
Mulberry, Bur Oak,
Chestnut Oak, Overcup Oak,
Post Oak, Rock Chestnut Oak.
Swamp White Oak, White Oak,
Osage Orange, Yellow Pine (long leaved)
Pitch Pine, Sassafras,
Tamarack, Black Walnut.
AXEMAN SHI? 199
Perishable Woods
White Birch, Box Elder
Silver Maple,
Paper Birch,
Hackberry w'.^'^n'.l.
Black Jack Oak,
^
Water Oak
Spanish Oak, The Poplars,
Ldblolly Pine, Sycamore.
^'mo'st wTids durable when not exposed to

are
alternate wetting and drying.
Sapwood is more liable
than heart-wood, as a rule, but this is not
to decay
true of Paper Birch.)
Resinous Woods
&"'pin^(7iry), |o^Sea;ed Pine.

^
Long-leaved Pine (very). The Spruces.
Pitch Pine (very),
Close-grained Woods
Laurel,
Blue Ash,
Liquidambar,
The Aspens,
Basswood, Yellow Locust,
Magnolia,
Red Bay (very),
Beech, (very), The Maples,
Black Birch, Basket Oak,
Paper Birch (very), Bur Oak,
Chestnut Oak,
Red Birch,
White Birch, Overcup Oak,
Yellow Birch, Post Oak,
Box Elder, Rock Chestnut Oak,
Buckeye, Swamp White Oak,
The Cedars (very), White Oak,
The Cherries, Osage Orange
Cottonwood, (extremely).
Crab-apple (very), Pecan,
Cucumber, Persimmon (very),
Short-leaved Pine
Cypress,
(generally),
Dogwood,
Rock Elm (very), White Pine (very),
Elm (very),
Slippery Plum,
Winged Elm very), The Poplars,
Service-berry,
Big Shellbark Hickory
Silver-bell,
(very), (very),
Bitter-nut Hickory,
jnicKory, Sorrel Tree
n";f>t,V 9nriires
S u
Mocker-nut Hickory (very)^T.he
Sycamore (very),
Pig-nut Hickory, Thorns,
Water Hickory (very). The
Tulip,
Holly (very), Hazel (very)»
Hornbeam (Ironwood), Witch
Vellow Wood.
Hop Hornbeam (very)
ôo CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Very Heavy JVoods
Chestnut Oak. Pig-nut Hickory,
Shellbark Hickory, Mocker-nut Hickory.
Hop Hornbeam, Basket Oak,
Overcup Oak, Persimmon,
Post Oak, Service-berry,
Flowering Dogwood, Swamp White Oak,
Big Shellbark Hickory, Osage Orange.
Very Light JVoods
"White Basswood, White Spruce,
Box Elder , Cottonwood,
Sweet Buckeye, Balsam Fir,
Hemlock, White Pine,
Yellow Poplar, Balsam Poplar,
Quaking Aspen, White Cedar,
Butternut, Arborvitae.
The weight of seasoned wood is no criterion of
the weight of the green wood, which must be learned
t>y experience. For example, the dry wood of the
Sequoia, or California Big Tree, is lighter than White
Pine, but the freshly cut log is so heavy that it
will scarcely float in water. Black Walnut and Sour
Gum are only moderately heavy when seasoned, but
the green logs will not float.
Woods for Special Purposes. —These tables

are only general guides. Individual trees of the
«ame species vary much in their qualities. In select-
ing wood for a special purpose one will be governed,
of course, by the material at hand. Suppose he
wants a very hard and close-grained wood He may :
choose, according to circumstances, beech, birch, dog-

wood, rock elm, mocker-nut (white-heart) hickory,
holly,hornbeam, yellow locust, sugar maple, Osage
orange, persimmon, service-berry, or whatever he
can get on the spot that will answer his purpose.
If it must also be strong, tough, elastic, or have
some other merit, the choice will be narrowed.
Timber cut in the spring of the year, when
the
sap is up is much inferior in quality and durability
to that which is cut in autumn and winter, when
the sap is down. Sap softens the fibers, sours in cut
timber, and carries the seeds of dry-rot or decay.
Hewing Timber. —To flatten a log, as for a
AXEMANSHIP 201
bench if it will not spli^'^îght
seat, Score th^ :
top of with notches of unifSujlfegppth, like saw

it
teeth, but as far apart as the ûff *^li block off

evenly; then chop out the bloc$s,^âflH
(along the dotted line A B in Fig. 40).^^"%^.
smoothJ^
When much hewing is to be done, a broadaxe or
adze is used; but both of these tools are difficult
and dangerous for an inexperienced man to handlî>^
'^''^— —---—--
and neither
tiiiu ui them
iiciLHcx of Win be
Luciii will oDiainaDie except whe%.
oe obtainable wnei^ ^5^
skilled artisans can be hired to wield them. •'./-^' "'
-^-"^h^^^bi^
%^
Fig. 40. — Scoring and Hewing

—
Splitting Timber. Logs split through the cen-
ter into half-logs with one face flat are very useful
in cabins and about camp, for tables, benches,
shelves, and other rustic furniture. They also are
employed in making slab camps, puncheons for floor-
ing, and small enclosed cabins. In the latter case,
split logs have certain advantages over round ones.
They take only half as many trees, they are easier
for one or two men to handle, easier to notch for
the corners, make close joints without much, if any
chinking, and leave a surface for the interior
flat
of the cabin. They may also be used vertically in-
stead of horizontally, and in this way short logs can
be utilized.
The only implements needed in splitting logs are
an axe (single-bitted) and a maul and some wooden
wedges made with the axe. The maul is made
in club shape (Fig. 41). Beech, oak and hickory
are good materials, but any hardwood that does not
splinter easily will do. Choose a sapling about five
inches thick at the butt, not counting the bark. Dig
a littlebelow the surface of the ground and cut
the sapling off where the stools of the roots begin.
(The wood is very tough here, and this is to be used
for the large end of the maul, which should be
; ;
^2 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT

about ten Inches long). From this, forward, shave
down the handle, which should be twenty inches
long. Thus balanced, the maul will not jar one's
hands.
Gluts (Fig. 42) are simply wooden wedges. The
best woods for them are dogwood and hornbeam
or Ironwood, as they are very hard and tough, even
when green; but use whatever Is handy. Chop a
sapling of suitable thickness, and make one end
wedged-shaped then cut it off square at the top
;
and so continue until you have all the gluts you
^•^'^^ ~^.^.!^£^
Fig. 41.— Maul Fig. 42. — Gluts (edge

and face)
want. no mean skill to chop a glut to a

It takes
true wedge shape, and much depends upon getting
the angles and surfaces correctly proportioned. A
novice is apt to make a glut too short and thick, but
it must not be quite so slender as a steel wedge, for
it would splinter too readily.

In splitting timber, one must observe the grain
and structure of the wood. Naturally, he would se^
lect stuff that is straight-grained but that Is not alL
;
Fig. 43 shows the end of a log that has been sawed

off square. Observe that there are four kinds of
structure to be considered: (i) the bark, (2) the
light-colored sapwood next to the bark, (3) the ma-
ture wood, (4) the dark-colored heartwood. It Is
seldom that heartwood splits evenly. Outside of it
we notice the concentric rings of annual growth

also the medullary rays, radiating from the center
like spokes of a wheel. Both of these continue
through the sapwood, though not so shown here,
as they are less conspicuous in it.
Now the natural lines of cleavage are along the
AXEMANSHIP 203
medullary rays, which are pithy. Hence a log can
be split straight through the center (if clear and
straight-grained) from any point on the circum-
ference, but if you try to make other splits parallel
with this, you will have trouble, for you are at-
tempting to cross the raj^s at an angle. Some trees
can be split, by careful manipulation, into three
slabs or four slabs with parallel faces, but usually it
will not pay you to try it.
6
Fig. 43. —
Cross-section Fi.?. 44.- Rail Splits
of Tree Trunk
The natural way of cleavage is shown in Fig. 44,

which illustrates the method of splitting rails. First
the log is split through the center, then each half
similarly. Then one of the quarters is split through
the line ab, following, as you see, a medullary ray.
Next the point of the wedge is split oii across cd
(direction of annual rings), forming one rail. The
remaining billet is again split in the same direction,
ef, and separate parts are now split along the
its
rays, forming, in this instance, five rails. The num-

ber, of course, will depend upon the size of the log.
To split a log: Begin at the smaller or top end,
because it splits easiest that way. Advantage may
be taken of a natural crack or check, but if there is
none, take axe in one hand, maul in the other, and
start a crack. Into this drive two wedges, as in
Fig. 45, and others into the longitudinal crack on
top as it opens. To ensure a straight split: First
score the log lengthwise with the axe, driving the
bitt in with a moderate tap or two, at one place, then
extending the cut backward with another, and so on.
finally splitting this apart with gluts. free-split- A
ting log of moderate size can be split without
wedges, by using two axes, one working behind the
other.
/ ' '^
AXEMANSHIP 205
other thin pieces are to be riven, a nice judgment

must be exercised in selecting the right kind of tree.
Wood for this purpose must be sound, straight-
grained and springy. If brash or doty, it will not
do at all. Nor will "any old wood" do that splits
easily; it must and make thin boards.
split straight
The species of tree will depend, of course, on what
giowths one has to choose from. Cedar is best, as it
is easily riven and is very durable. Boards from ,
five to six feet long can be split out of cedar with no

other tool than an axe, and a club or mallet to tap
it. If the board shows a tendency to "run out," the
workman changes ends and makes another split back
toward the first one, or "coaxes" it after the man-
ner to be described hereafter. Such axe-riven board*;
or shingles are commonly called "splits."
Here in the southern Appalachians, our first
choice for clapboards is "mountain oak," when we
can find one that splits well. Its wood resembles
that of live oak in hardness and texture. Otherwise
wê take white, black, red, or water oak. White
and yellow pines are much used occasionally yellow
;
poplar. Ayoung, quick-growing chestnut tree makes

good 18-inch shingles, but not the longer clap-
boards or "shakes," as chestnut is prone to "run
out" when long splits are made. Mature chestnut
trees generally are full of worm-holes. Sometimes
a hemlock is found that will make clapboards, if
split bastard (the way the rings run), but, as a
rule, hemlock has a spiral grain.
When a suitable species is found, the next thing is
to pick out a good "board tree." This takes an ex-
perienced eye, so leave it to a native woodsman, if
you can. The way he does it is not easy to explain.
First he looks for a straight trunk, free from knots,
limbs, and dote. It should be not less than two feet
thick. Then he scans the bark. If the ridges and
furrows run straight, in a general way, parallel with
the trunk, it is an indication of straight grain. An
oak with a large fork is likely to split well.
But there is more than this in picking a board-
tree: the wood should be not only separable but
springy. The woodsmanwill tell you that he "sen-
ses" this; and he does, to the extent that his choice
is guided by no rule nor process of reasoning. Twice
out of three times he is right when he says **That'
tree '11 do ;" nine times out of ten he is right when
he says "That tree *s no good." Experience has
taught me that a tree with a certain "look" is likely
timber, but I can't, for the life of me, describe that
look. You may have to split a big block out of a
tree, test its cleavage, and try several other trees
before you find a good one. This is bad practice,
but not so bad as felling, sawing off a cut, and then
leaving the tree to waste utterly.
—
Clapboards. ^To rive clapboards or shingles
fiom the green tree is now a lost art, outside of the
backwoods. Not one carpenter in fifty, nowadays,
can show you how. Yet it is an art well worth
knowing for hunters and others who may want to
go, season after season, to the same locality, and
wish a snug shack on the place for regular quarters.
Since good hunting seldom is found in the neighbor-
hood of a sawmill, a lumber yard, or a wagon road,
the crux of the cabin scheme is how to get roofing
material. Bark is flimsy and will scarce outlast the
season. —
Tarred paper ^what is more hideously in-
congruous than tarred paper over honest log walls?
Anyway, paper requires boards underneath.
The thing to do is to rive clapboards from trees
that grow on the spot. A clapboard is simply a thin
board, from two to four feet long, split or worked
with a froe from straight-grained timber. It is a
little thicker along one edge than the other, being
split from bolts, as shown in Fig. 47. A clapboard
roof is dependable. It harmonizes better than any
other with the general woodsy effect. V/hen prop-
erly laid, it is storm-proof, and will not cup. It will
last a generation.
The tools required are few : An axe or two, a cross-
cut saw, a pair of steel wedges, and a froe. A maul
for the wedges and gluts, and a mallet of similar
AXEMANSHIP 207
shape, but smaller, for the froe, are made on the
spot. The froe is a tool that seldom is seen outside
of the backwoods. Any
blacksmith on the edge of
the wilderness can make one for you. Its shape is
shown in Fig. 49. The blade should be straight
(old ones that have yielded to the mallet and be-
come swaybacked are hard to manage). Let it be
about 14 inches long, rather thick, and stunt-edged,
as it is for splitting, not cutting. Its weight will
be about five pounds. A
green stick will do for the
hc-ndle.
When the right tree is found, throw It in the best
place for working up, and saw off a cut of 23^2 to 3
feet. The butt cut usually is not so good as the
upper ones, being tougher. Turn the cut up on end,
and, with a single-bitt axe and mallet, mark an in-
dentation straight across the center of the block.
Do not tap hard until you come to the end of the
line then strike vigorously, and the block will fall
;
in halves. If you struck hard from the first, the

split might run off to one side. In the same way,
split the halves into quarters, and these into bolts or
Fig. 46.--Splitting Out Fig. 47.— Block for

Bolts Clapboards
billets of convenient size for riving (see Fig. 46).

A bolt is usually of such thickness, that it will make
eight boards or shingles —say five inches across the
outside. I
Now out the heartwood of each bolt by lay-

split
ing the axe across and tapping it. Heartwood is
useless, for it won't split well. In some trees the
heart is so tough that it is advisable, instead of halv-
ing and quartering your cut, to just split in toward
the cut, all around, to bolt size, and then knock out
the bolts by driving the axe in at right angles to the
cuts, leaving the heart as one solid core (Fig. 47).
Skin off the bark, and your bolts are ready to rive.
The next thing is to
n\ake a brake. This
may be simply the fork
of a limb, as in Figs.
49 and 51. Another
way is to lay two
Fig. 48.— Brake for blocks against the pros-
Riving Boards trate trunk of your
board tree, at right angles to it, like fire dogs,
and a yard or so apart; on them lay a small
log, parallel with the trunk, and drive stakes out-
side this "roller" to keep it from rolling more than
six or eight inches away from the trunk (Fig. 48).
The office of the brake is to clamp one end of the
bolt while you are riving with the froe.
Fig. 49. — Splitting with a Froe

Now take up your froe. Stand one of the "bolts
on end, lay the froe's edge accurately along the cen-
ter of one end, and split the bolt in twain by
tapping with the mallet and springing your cleft
AXEMANSHIP 209
apart with the froe (Fig. 49). Take one of these
halves and rive it similarly into two equal parts.
At this stage (more surely at the next one) you
—
must learn a new trick the difference between
riving and mere splitting, and how to govern the rift.
The wood has a tendency to "run out" more toward
one side than the other. If you went on just fore-
Fig. 50.— "Run-out" Rift
ing the froe down, the result would be a botch (as

in Fig. 50). To prevent this, turn the block so
that the thicker side is down, lay its lower end in
the brake, open the cleft until you can insert your
flat left hand (the froe will prevent pinching), and
then bear down hard on the bottom {thicker) sec-
tion while you work the froe gently up and down.
Fig. 51. —^Springing the Rift
This will make your split run back again into the
thiclcer section.
Having quartered the bolt, now carefully rive
each quarter into two clapboards or shingles (Fig.
51). You may have to turn the piece three or four
times in order to get boards of uniform thickness.
It is right here that judgment and skill are called
for.
aio CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
With good wood, already bolted, an experienced
hand can turn out about one thousand clapboards,
or four thousand shingles, in a day. Experts do
better.
Clapboards, although slower to make than short
shingles, save time and labor in the end, because
of their extra span, and because they can be nailed
directly to rib poles running lengthwise of the roof,
whereas shingles require strips of board or flattened
and close together. The
poles laid across rafters
rib pole construction makes a prettier gable end
than the usual way of boxing up the gable with
boards, because courses of logs are carried all the
way up into the peak. Sawed boards break rustic
efifect.
Shingles. — However, if
shingles be preferred, they,
too, can readily be made
from the green tree. These
hand-made shingles, if fin-
ished by shaving smooth
with a drawing knife, are
superior to the mill product.
To make them, a large
Fig. 5Z— t^^^ ^^ chosen, and the
Double Bolting cuts are double bolted (as
for Shingles jn Fig. 52). Since the
sides of the outer bolts are almost parallel, the un-
shaved shingles will be of nearly even thickness on
both edges. In riving shingles the bolt is turned
end-for-end every time a shingle is struck ofE, and
the shingles are allowed to run out a little so as to
be thinner at one end than at the other.
A rude but efficient shaving-horse is shown in Fig.
53. My partner and I made such a one in an hour

out of a chestnut log, a dogwood fork, two sticks for
legs, and a hickory wand. The log (A B m
Fig. 53)
Is flattened on top to the rear of C. The far end
rests on the ground and the near one is elevated on
legs to such height that a man sitting in front of it
will find A at the level Qfjiis elbows. The clamp
AXEMANSHIP 211
CD is pivoted in a slot by a wooden pin. (We
had a chisel, but no auger; so we burned the hole
out with a red-hot poker). Its head, C, may be
cut as shown or formed of the stub of a natural
fork. The end isDhigh enough to clear the
ground, and at such distance from A that the oper-
ator can press against it with his foot, and thus
clamp the head down on a shingle which is laid
from C to A. A
bowstring runs from C to the
springy stick E inserted in the log a few feet back
Fig. 53. — Shaving Horse
of the clamp, to hold the latter back out of the

vvay when not in use. For ordinary cabins, the
clapboards or shingles do not require shaving.
Shingles are best made of soft wood (cedar is
first Then, if stacked and seasoned, they
choice).
will not cup. If oak shingles are seasoned they
will split in consequently they are used
nailing;
green. Moderatecupping does not necessarily
mean a leaky roof, but it is unsightly. Clapboards,
although always laid green, cannot cup, because they
are nailed at both ends. They should be laid thick
edge to thick and thin to thin. A
thin .board wîll
outlast a thick one and makes tighter joints.
—
Speaking of cupping it is universally believed by
backwoodsmen that green shingles surely will cup if
laid at any other time than "the old of the moon.'*
Twice out of three times they will cup anyway but —
it isheresy to say so.
—
Lx)NG^ Slender Splits. ^When one is obliged to
use wood that does not naturally split very straight,
he still can rive out long and slender pieces of uni-
form thickness by careful manipulation. In his very
:

practical little book on Camp and
Trail Methods,
Mr. Kreps method that he
describes the following
uses in getting material for snowshoe frames out of
white birch, which is the only good wood for the
purpose that is to be found in the far northern
woods
"Look along the edges of the swamps and you

willfinid long, slender birches with smooth bark.
Select one of about six inches in diameter, free of
knots and flaws for about ten feet. It should be
straight, and there must be no- twist to the grain of
the wood. If the limbs of the tree are drooping, so
much the better, as it is stronger wood. Avoid the
red-barked kind, with upright limbs.
"Having found a good tree, fell it, cut off about
ten feet, and lay this piece in a notch cut' in an old
log or stump. Now carefuly cut a groove the en-
tire length of the stick, making it an inch or more
deep. Do not strike hard when cutting this groove,
or you will shatter the wood. When finished, turn
the stick over and make a similar groove in the op-
posite side.
"Now go along the entire length and strike lightly
with the axe in the bottom of the groove to star*
the split; turn the stick over and do the same with
the other side.
"Next make two small wooden wedges, and, com-
mencing at the end of the stick, driving one wedge
in each groove, keep moving them along, and the
stick will split nicely, following the grooves. If at
any point the split is inclined to lead away from the
groove, bring it back by cutting the contrary fibers.
"Now select the best of the two pieces and cut
another groove the entire length, on tne bark side,
SpKt this the same as before and you will have the
wood for two frames."
Quick Seasoning. — Green wood can be seasoned

quickly, or rather have the sap driven out of it and
the fibers hardened, by careful roasting in hot ashes
or over the camp-fire. The old English word for
such treatment of wood was "beathing." For the
time being, this makes the wood soft and pliable, so
that it can be bent into any required shape, or it can
lê straightened by hanging a weight from one end,
or by fastening it to a straight form; but when the
AXEMANSHIP 213
wood has cooled, it becomes stiff, as if regularly sea-
soned.
One time when some of us were bivouacing in the
mountains, Bob announced that he was going to
catch a mess of trout in the morning. He had a line
and some flies, but I wondered how he would extemp-
orize a rod stiff and elastic enough for fly fishing.
It didn't bother him a bit. The only straight and
slender stick he could find right there was a box
elder seedling. He trimmed it, removed the bark,
and spent about an hour roasting it over the camp-
fire, drawing it back and forth in his hands, so as
not to overheat and crack it, and to temper the

heat just right, according to thickness of the point
treated. When the sap was roasted out, he hung the
rod up to cool, and when that was done he had a
one-piece trout rod with the necessary whippy action
ror fly fishing. Next morning he soon caught all
we could eat.
Bending Wood. —
Small pieces of green wood can
be bent to a required form by merely soaking the
Fig. 54. — Spanish Windlass (for bending wood)
pieces for two cr three days in water, but if it is
desired that they "should retain their new shape, they

should be steamed. Small pieces can be immersed
in a kettle of hot water. A
long, slender one is
suppled by laying it over the kettle, mopping it with
boiling water, and shifting it along as required.
Large pieces may be steamed in a trench partly filled
with water, by throwing red-hot stones into it. Then
drive stout stakes into the ground, in the outline
desired, and bend the steamed wood over these
stakes, with small sticks underneath to keep the wood
from contact with the ground, that it may dry more
readily. If a simple bow-shape is all that is wanted^
it can be secured by merely sticking the two ends
of the wood into the ground and letting the bow
stand upright to dry; or, use the Spanish windlass*
as shown in Fig, 54,
CHAPTER Xlir
TOMAHAWK SHELTERS -AXEMEN'S

CAMPS—CACHES—MASKED CAMPS
"The simplest and most primitive of all camps is
the 'Indian camp/ It is easily and quickly made,
is warm and comfortable, and stands a pretty heavy
rain when properly put up. This is how it is made:
Let us say you are out and have slightly missed your
way. The coming gloom warns you that night is
shutting down. You are no tenderfoot. You know
that a place of rest is essential to health and comfort
through the long, cold, November night.
"You dive down the first little hollow until you
strike a rill of water, for water is a prime necessity.
As you draw your hatchet you take in the whole
situation at a glance. The little stream is gurgling
downward in a half-choked frozen way. There is a
huge sodden hemlock lying across it. One clip of
the hatchet shows it will peel. There is plenty oi
smaller timber standing around: long, slim poles,
with a tuft of foliage on top. Five minutes suffices
to drop one of these, cut a twelve-foot pole from it^
sharpen the pole at each end, jam one end into the
ground and the other into the rough bark of a scrag-
gy hemlock, and there is your ridge pole. Now go
—
= —
with your hatchet for the bushiest and most
promising young hemlocks within reach. Drop them
and draw them to camp rapidly.
"Next, you need a fire. There are fifty hard, resin-
ous limbs sticking up from the prone hemlock; lop
off a few of these, and split the largest into match
timber; reduce the splinters to shavings, scrape the
wet leaves from your prospective fire-place, and
strike a match on the balloon part of your* trousers.
If you are a woodsman you will strike but one. Feed
the fire slowly at first; it will gain fast. When you
have a blaze ten feet high, look at your watch. It
is 6 P. M. You don't want to turn in before 10
o'clock, and you have four hours to kill before bed-
time. Now, tackle the old hemlock, take off every
215
dry limb, and then peel the bark and bring it into
camp. You will find this takes an hour or more.
"Next, strip every limb from your young hemlocks,
and shingle them on your ridge pole. This will make
a sort of bear den, very well calculated to give you
a comfortable night's rest. The bright fire will soon
dry the ground that is to be your bed, and you will
have plenty of time to drop another small hemlock
and make a bed of browse a foot thick. You do it.
Then you make your pillow. Now, this pillow is
essential to comfort, and is very simple. It is half
a yard of muslin, sewed up as a bag, and filled with
moss or hemlock browse. You can empty it and put
it in your pocket, where it takes up about as much
room as a handerchief.
"You have other little muslin bags — an* you be
w'ise. One holds a couple of ounces of good tea;
another sugar; another is kept to put your loose
duffel in: money, match safe, pocket knife (when
you go to bed). You have a pat of butter and a bit
of pork, with a liberal slice of brown bread; and be-
fore turning in you make a cup of tea. ^roil a slice
of pork, and indulge in a lunch.
"Ten o'clock comes. The time has not passed tedi-
ously. You are warm, dry, and well fed. Your old
friends, the o»wls, come near the fire-light and
salute you with their strange, wild notes; a distant
fox sets up for himself with his odd barking cry,
and you turn in. Not ready to sleep just yet.
"But you drop off; and it is two bells in the morn-
ing watch when you awaken with a sense of chill
and darkness. The fire has burned low, and snow is
falling. The owls have left, and a deep silence
broods over the cold, still forest. You rouse the
fire, and, as the bright light shines to the furthest
recesses of your forest den, get out the little pipe,
and reduce a bit of navy plug to its lowest denom-
ination. The smoke curls upward; the fire
lazily
makes you warm and drowsy, and again you lie down
— to again awaken with a sense of chilliness — to find
the burned low, and daylight breaking.
fire You
have slept better than you would in your own room
at home. You have slept in an 'Indian camp.'
"You have also learned the difiference between
such a simple shelter land an open-air bivouac under
—
a tree or beside an old log." ^("Nessmuk," Wood-
oraff.)
Why peel the old hemlock? Because the thick

bark is resinous, is good to ''brand up" a fire, and to
TOMAHAWK SHELTERS 217
cook over. Those hemlock stubs by themselves are
rather poor fuel —
you took what was handy but, —
as I have already warned, chop them off well above
their butts where they join the log, or you will have
a nicked hatchet.
Fig. 55. — Lopped Tree Den
Nowadays it is on public lands, to

prohibited,
make a fire against the trunk of a tree, for it ruins
the tree. The ridge pole can be supported by a low
limb, or can be set up on shears.
it
If one alone, and needs nothing but a wind-

is
break at night, a quick and easy way is to select a

small, thick foliaged evergreen, cut the stem partly
Fig. 56. —Straddle-bug Frame
in two about five feet from the ground, then

at
push the top over till it rests on the ground, the
stem still being fast to the butt. Trim off the
boughs from the inside, to use in thatching. Par-
tially sever the upstanding limbs on the outside and
let them hang down as part of the roof. Add your
2i» CAMMING AND WOODCRAFT
thatching, and branches from nearby small treest
as may be needed to make your den wind-proof
(Fig. 55). This will be little protection, however,
against rain, as the angle of the ridge is not steep
enough, unless the tree be cut higher.
Where no tree grows on a favorable place, one
can erect very quickly a tripod of poles (Fig. 56)
secured at the apex by interlocking forks, or by
tying. No triangular framework, however, is
satisfactory for more than one occupant, because, if
there be two or more of you, the den must be made
so deep that the angle farthest from the fire is sure
to be cold and dismal. The tripod frame is im-
pioved by tying one end of a pole to each leg of the
shears, about two-thirds of the way to the top, and
letting the other end rest on the ground, so that the
rear of the shelter will be nearer a semi-circle than
a triangle.
This is what I call a "straddle-bug" frame (see
dotted lines in Fig. 56). It is economical of time
and material, as it takes but five sticks. It is a par-
ticularly good frame to use if one has a poncho or
pack cloth, which is spread over the top, tied to the
side bars, and the whole is then covered with boughs.
This ensures a dry spot to sleep on, and makes a very
snug shelter in snowy weather, as no wind can get
through, nor snow-water leak through from the top
(snow does not melt at the sides) from the heat of
the camp-fire.
Brush Lean-to. — If two trees happen to stand
in the right position, run a stout ridge pole horizont-
ally from one to the other, secured in forks of low
limbs, or in notches cut in the trees, or by nailing,
or tying (use twisted withes, pliable rootlets, or bark
straps, if you have no cord). Against this lay poles
sloping backward to the ground like a shed roof.
Fasten a cross bar on the back, and one on each side,
to stiffen the frame and to support thatching. Cover
the roof and sides with evergreen boughs (balsam,
hemlock, or spruce) hanging them from ridge and
cross bars by stubs of their branchlets. trim them
on the Inside, and thatch them deeply outside with
small boughs, beginning at the bottom, so that each
layer will be overlapped by the one above it, like
shingles. Lay the thatch with feathery tips down.
Fig. 57.— Stake Frame for

Lean-to
When no trees grow where you want your bed, set

up two lorked stakes, slanting slightly outward at
the butts so they will not need bracing, to hold your
ridge pole (Fig. 57), and proceed as above. If the
Fig. 58. —Shear Frame for Lean-to
ground is too stony or frozen to plant stakes in, use

shear poles (Fig. 58), letting them fiare outward
so as to brace in every direction.
A frame must be stout enough, in winter, to
hold up the weight of a snowfall. The lower the
frame, the less material needed. Five feet to the
ridge is high enough for a "one-night stand."
Any such bower is delightfully woodsy and sweet-
scented, but it is not good protection against long
oi heavy rain. Of course, it lasts only so long as
the browse remains green.
—
Bough Beds. Balsam makes the best bed, as it
has thick, flat needles, soft and fragrant. Hemlock
is next choice, then arborvitae (white cedar) and.
spruce. Pine sprays are too scraggly. A bed of
boughs or leaves will spread from under one if not
held in place by something at the ends and sides;
.so, if practicable, cut four logs and stake them in a
rectangle to keep the stuff in place. The fewer

thick stems there are in your mattress, the easier you
-will sleep ; but it takes a long time to make a browse
bed of only the feathery tips; and you may be too
hurried and weary.
For the first course use branchlets from eighteen
inches to two feet long. Begin at the head end,
lay them against the log, butts down, bottom or
convex side up, and stick them in the ground with
butts slanting only a little to the front, to make the
bed springy. Then shingle another row of the fans
in front of these, and so on down to the foot, leav-
ing only the tips exposed. Then take smaller ones
and stick them upright, tips inclined slightly to the
head, all over the bed, as thickly as time and ma-
terial will allow. Such a bed is luxurious in pro-
portion to its depth and freshness. If the browse
were merely laid flat on the ground it would pack
hard and lumpy, and the sticks would soon find your
ribs. The bed should be renewed with fresh stuff
every two or three days.
Balsam twigs should not be cut, but snapped off,
Grasp the stem with two front fingers underneath,
pointing toward the tip, and thumb on top, then
press downward with the thumb and give a quick
twist of the wrist.
Where there are no evergreens, collect small green
branches of willow, cherry, alder, or any tree or
TOMAHAWK SHELTERS 22.
shrub that is springy and supple. Lay a course oi

these on the ground and cover with moss, dead grass,
dry leaves, or whatever soft stuff you can find.
Green leafy branchlets, ferns, rushes, herbage, and
so forth, will do, if you can get nothing better.
Even if such a bed is not soft, it will serve as insula-
tion between your body and the cold, damp earth,
and that is far better than none at all.
—
Bark Shelters. Almost any bark will peel
freely in the spring, when sap is rising, and several
kinds will peel all summer. Elm peels through
eight months of the year, and some young basswood
treesmay be peeled even in winter. But, as a rule,
ifone wishes to strip bark in cold weather he will
have to roast a log carfully without burning the
outside.
Barking a tree generally kills it, and is prohibited
on public lands. But in the far wilderness such
barking as campers would do is not detrimental to
the forest, which generally needs thinning out, any-
way.
The bark of the following trees makes good roofs
and temporary shelters, and is useful for many
other purposes: Paper birch, cedar, basswood, buck-
eye, elm, pig-nut hickory, spruce, hemlock, chestnut,
balsam white ash, yellow poplar and cottonwood.
fir,
(That of the paper birch and of cedar, is quite in-

flammable). Select a tree with smooth and fault-
less trunk. If it is a birch, choose one with bark
that is thick, with few and small ''eyes." If it is of
a species that has rough, hard, furrowed bark on old
trees, pick out a young one that still is smooth on
the outside, or treat as described below.
For a temporary roof it will be enough merely to
skin the bark off in long strips eight to twelve inches
wide, lay a course lengthwise with the slope of the
roof, convex side up, and then another on top of this
with concave side up, so that the first course wîll
form troughs to run off the water that is shed by the
second (Fig. 59). One axeman can erect a raia-
proof shelter in this way, from the bark of young
chestnut trees, for example, in less than an hour.
It will not last long, however, as the sun will curl
the troughs inward. If a tree is felled for the pur-
pose of stripping its bark, first place a short log near
the butt as a skid for it to fall on.
For neater and more permanent jobs the bark
must be flattened, and the rough outer bark must h«
removed Cexceot birch, which is always smooth )-
ônly the tough, fibrous, soft inner bark being used»
Fig. 59.— Bark Tilt _^

For rough work the outer bark may simply be
"rossed" off with a hatchet, but for nice jobs the
bark should be treated as described below.
If only a moderate-sized sheet is needed, the tree
may not have to be felled. First girdle the tree
just above the swell of the butt, by cutting through
into the sapwood. Then girdle it again as high up
as you can reach. Connect these two rings by a
Vertical slit through the bark. Now cut into wedge-
shape the larger end of a four-foot length of sap-
ling; this is your "spud" or barking tool. With it
gently work the bark free along one edge of the up-
right slit, and thus proceed around the tree till the
whole sheet falls off. If the girdles are 5 feet apart,
a tree 2 feet in diameter will thus yield a sheet about
5 X 6J feet, and a 3-foot tree will afford one 5 x 9j^
feet. The bark is laid on the ground for a few
days to dry in the sun, and is then soaked in water,
which supples it and makes the inner bark easy to
remove from the outer.
The frame for a bark lean-to is like that in Fig. 57

or Fig. 58. The roof is laid in courses, beginning at
the bottom, and overlapping like shingles. It is se-
cured in place by weight-poles. The sheets of bark
at the sides can be tied to stakes by using bark straps-
Fig. 60. — Bark Lean-to
or held in place by driving other slender stakes on

the outside and tying them to the inner ones at the
top (Fig. 60). Such a camp wîll last a whole
season.
A bark teepee is made by
lashing the tops of three
poles loosely together, spreading them as a tripod,
Fig. 61. — Beehive Fig. 62. — Beehive

Lodge Frame Lodge (covered)
laying other poles against them with their butts

radiating in a circle, covering with bark as above,
and holding it in place with other poles laid against
the outside. A
more commodious circular lodge
(more head-room for its size) was formerly used by
the Algonquin tribes of the East. It was of bee-
hive shape (Figs. 61 and 62), and was covered with
skins or bark. The
butts of the poles were driven
into the ground and the tops bent over and tied
together. Inner hoops were added as shown in the
illustration, and the two crossed poles in front left
openings for a doorway below and a smoke-vent
above. If a rope or vine were run around near the
top, pegged down at the bottom of the lodge on the
opposite side, and a similar one used on the other
side, such a structure would stand against a heavy
gale. The Indians, so far as I know, did not do
this,but I have shown the arrangement in Fig. 62.
A wikiup frame that is quickly set up can be made
by driving six or more slender and flexible rods into
the ground, in semi-circular or half-oval form, bend-
ing over those opposite each other, and twisting their
Fig. 63.— Wikiup Frame Fig. 64.— Wattled Work
tops together so that they hold without tying. In

a thicket of seedlings, I have cleared out a circular
space, bent over some of the tall, slender ones on the
margin of this space, trimmed ofl[ the lower branches,
interwoven the others, and so, in a jiffy, have had a
wikiup frame that no wind could blow down (Fig.
63). The covering would be bark^ evergreen
boughs, or whatever I could rustle that would serve
the purpose. Asmall fire built close in front would
soon warm the little cubby. If there are prospects
of rain, the top should not be bent over so far, but
sloped like the one in Fig. 61.
Wattled Work. —A
frame of any shape may be
wattled to serve as foundation for a lasting thatch,
or for daubing with clay. Bed bottoms and other
TOMAHAWK SHELTERS 22s
movable articles can be made in the same way. It
also makes good fencing around a camp in a wild
hog country. To illustrate the process, let us sup-
pose you want to make a spring bed-frame to hold
hay, browse, or whatever your mattress stuff may be.
As many sticks as are required are driven firmly into
the ground (make holes for them with a pointed
stick). Then take willows or other flexible wands,
previously suppled by soaking, and weave them in
and out from stake to stake as shown in Fig. 64.
To keep the outermost stakes from drawing to-
gether, cut a strong stick with a fork at one end
and a notch cut in the other and set it between the
stakes to keep them apart, shoving it higher up as
the work progresses.
—
Slab Camps. In the mountains round about
where I live there are many slab camps made by
the native hunters and herdsmen. They last for
years, and are welcome shelters for any wanderers
who know their location or who chance to come up-
on them when the weather is bad. Very often the
mountaineers go far up into the wilds without
blankets or shelter cloths, carrying only their guns,
ammunition, frying pan, tin cups, and ''some ra-
tions in a tow sack." This, too, in freezing weather.
But I omitted one thing that they always take
along: a full-size axe. Having that indispensable
tool, they can get along without tent or bedding, no
matter what kind of weather may ensue. From
chestnut, basswood, ash, spruce, pine, balsam, or
other suitable wood, they split out, with axe and
gluts a lot of 9-foot slabs. A
stout ridge pole is
laid across heavy forked posts or in notches cut in
two adjoining trees to which the pole is withed
fast. The slabs are laid, overlapping lengthwise,
from ridge to ground. A big log fire is kept going
all night in front of the shelter. Usually that is
all. It must be bitter weather that would urge a
southern mountaineer to enclose the sides of such a
—
camp in his vocabulary there's no such word as
"draughts,"
A slab camp may be made a very comfortable re«
treat by taking a little more pains, and it will last
unimpaired for years, providing ready-made quarters
for future trips. Instead of plain slabs, which let
in more or less rainwater, owing to imperfect joining
at the laps, use "scoops." These are sim.ply slabs
with the hollowed out into shallow troughs
flat side
or gutters. This is done by cutting a series of
cross hacks a few inches apart along the core of the
slab from end to end, then, splitting these out by
chopping lightly lengthwise of the slab. Having
Fig. 65. — Slab Camp

set up your ridge pole, roll a good sized log to form
a back for the camp, about seven feet from the ridge,
and peg it in position. Lay the scoops overlapping
from ridge to log (Fig. 65) and nail them fast, or
drive stakes at the rear against ends of scoops. Then
enclose the sides with splits or bark, and chink
crevices around the log with moss or clay.
The siding may
extend to the roof, being trimmed
there to proper angle, or may rise little or no higher
than the side bar shown in the illustration. The
latter plan is best in localities where there are eddy-
ing and contrary winds, because it lets smoke out,
instead of smoking out the occupants. It is the
draught along the ground that chills sleepers, not
what comes from above.
In a mountainous region it may be necessary to
'lUMAHAWK SHELTERS 227
ridges.
build the camp in a hollow between steep
across the hollow, not up
In that case, make it face
nor down, because the night draughts sweep down a
ravine and reverse currents draw up it.
To complete the slab camp, add side logs on the

latter being,
inside, and a foot-log for the bed, the
say, fifteen inches thick, so as to serve
as a "deacon's
seat." The roof should project far enough in front

to shelter the deacon and elders when
they are busy
holding down the aforesaid log.
Back of this a browse bed, not less than a foot
deep; in front, a jolly fire of big logs: then
who
cares where the mercury may go?
In winter, cover the roof with a layer of evergreen
boughs, so that snow shall not melt on it from
the
heat of the camp-fire. A

drift six feet high would
only make such a camp the snugger against wmd
and cold. ^ r 1.1
Log Camps.—a favorite type of open faced
camp, is shown in Fig. 66. Logs are laid on top of
of
each other, at sides and rear of camp, to a height
about three being flattened a little so as to make
feet,
close joints. back corners may be notched, as

The
in a log house, but it is easier to butt
the logs by
halving their ends (Fig. 66.^) and spiking them to-
gether. Two stakes are set up in front to hold the
spiked
ridge pole, and the front ends of the logs are
As many rafters as needed are nailed to
to them.
the rear.
the ridge pole in front and the top log at
The roof usually is of canvas, but bark or splits may
be used by adding cross pieces to hold them. The
triangular sides may be enclosed, or left open as
smoke vents, bushy boughs being leaned up against
the windward side when desired.
The stakes need not be set in the ground, but if
it is preferred to do so, the
stakes being of green
timber, select such poles as are durable in the
soil,
and roast the sap out of their lower ends until the
surface is charred, as this will help keep them from
rotting.
In covering such a shelter, put on the sidmg firs^
and the roof last, so as to overlap. A two or
three-
foot overhang sloping downward from the ridge is
a desirable addition, to keep rain from driving in.
A simple and effective way to rig it is shown by the
dotted lines, which represent two forked poles slant-
ing upward from the rear, outside of logs, nailed to
logs and posts, and a cross bar laid in the forks to
hold the font edge of tarpaulin or whatever else is
used as roof. The most comfortable open-air camps
that I have made were of this design. There is
Fig. 66. — Log^ and Frame Camp
much more room than In a simple lean-to of the same

ground dimensions, and heat from the camp-fire is
reflected down on the occupants so that they are
comfortable in zero weather, yet they have the fresh
air of all outdoors.
Iprefer such quarters to any tent that ever was
made. In summer, the front and sides are easily
screened with mosquito netting, a pole on the ground
holding the front curtain down. If a little care is
used in selecting wood that Is durable (see table In
Chapter XII) such a camp will last for several
seasons, the tarpaulin, of course, being carried along
on each trip. For two men and their duffel, a good
size is 7 feet high, 7 feet wide, and 9 feet deep, in-
side measurement; for more, merely increase the

width.
An excellent camp for a party is arranged by
building two such shelters, facing each other, with a
log fire between, and a "kitchen" with dining table,
benches, and "pantry," at one side, as shown in the
ground plan (Fig. 67). The fire is built by laying
logs on thick "hand junks," and throws out heat in
all directions. In bad, windy weather, the end op-
posite the kitchen is screened by setting up a row of
bushy evergreens close together.
—
Caches. In a camp that is liable to be raided by
*coons, porcupines, or other predatory animals, the
m.eat, fish, butter, lard, etc., should be cached under
piles of stones twice as heavy as you think such
beasts could move, for they are astonishingly strong
and persistent. Bears will demolish any such pile
that one man could build.
To cache provisions and other articles in trees:
Fasten a strong peeled pole from the fork of one
tree to another at fifteen to twenty feet from the
ground, wrap up the parcel in canvas or oilskin so
snugly that ants cannot get into it, and suspend it
from the pole with ropes or wnres. The trees

should be too slender for a bear to climb, yet too
stout for him to shake. The pole is peeled to îve
less secure footing for small animals, and to make it
season into sound wood that will not rot and break.
Canvas waterproofed with linseed oil is the best co-
vering, as its odor and taste are offensive to ani-
mals of all kinds, great and small. A further pre-
caution, in case of a light parcel, is to make a St.
Andrew's cross (X-shaped), hang it from the pole,
and suspend the package from the end of one arm
of the cross, so that every puff of wind will set it
swinging.
A good place for a cache is on an
islet in a river
or lake, so small that there are not likely to be any

predatory animals living on it.
In the North, where wolves and wolverenes must
be guarded against, the best cache for meat is made
by cuttins: a hole throu£:h the ice of a stream or lake.
fastening the sack of meat to a stick by a rope or
hide thong, and letting it down into the water, the
stick resting across the orifice. Lumps of ice are
then piled into and over the hole, and water is
poured on- them, which freezes the mass together
into a mound a foot
** *
or two high. Or a place may
lUMAHAWK SHELTERS 231
**Inthe high plain on the north side of the Mis-
souri, and 40 yards from a steep bluff, we chose
a dry situation; then describing a small circle of
about 20 inches diameter, we removed the sod as
gently and carefully as possible. The hole is then
sunk perpendicularly for a foot deep, or more if the
ground be not firm. It is now worked gradually
wider as wc descend, till at length it becomes six or
seven feet deep, shaped nearly like a kettle, or the
lower part of a large still, with the bottom somewhat
sunk at the center. As the earth is dug, it is handed
up on a vessel and carefully laid on a cloth, in which
It is carried away, and usually it is thrown into the
river, or concealed so as to leave nc trace of it. A
floor of three or four inches in thickness is then made
of dry sticks, on which isthrown hay, or a hide per-
fectly dry. The goods, being well aired and dried
are laid on this floor, and prevented from touching
the wall by other dried sticks, in proportion as the
merchandise is stored away. When the hole is near-
ly full, a skin is laid over the goods, and on this
earth is thrown and beaten down until, with the ad-
diton of the sod first removed, the whole is on a level
with the ground and there remains not the slightest
appearance of an excavation."
Even after such precautions, caches sometimes
were discovered and dug into by wolves or by In-
dians' dogs. Another trouble was that they were
liable to cave in, if therewere no trees with which
to timber them. Of course, they had to be situated
high enough to be out of reach of river overflows*
Still, this method of storing supplies for the future
was the best that could be devised in such a situation,,

and generally it turned out all right. Even such
food as dried fish was kept a long time uninjured in
underground caches lined with dead grass and hides..
In the far wilderness a cache is considered sacred
by all woodsmen, white or red hence it need not
;
be concealed from prying eyes and itching fingers.

But in woods that are frequented by all sorts of
vagabonds and ne'er-do-wells, a hiding place for
one's supplies must be well chosen to escape the
attention of thieves or malicious people. For tem-
porary concealment, a hollow log may do, In case
of such articles as cannot be gnawed into by rodents
—
or entered by insects. Anything that is not injured
by dampness can be hidden more securely by digging
under an old embedded log, laying it there, covering
it up, and restoring the surface to its former appear-
ance.
A secret storehouse for tools, utensils, etc., that
you may wish to leave near the camp until next
season may
be dug in a dry bank and roofed over
with and then a layer of earth, like a
logs, brush,
dug-out, the interior being lined with poles and dry
grass, brush, or bark.
Another way, when you have a cabin, is to floor
itwith split puncheons conspicuously spiked to walls
and sleepers. One or two of these puncheons have
only spike heads driven in the usual places, and are
removable. They are fitted with hidden fastenings
to keep them firmly in place. This false flooring
communicates with a miniature cellar, rock lined,
under the middle of the cabin. Boxes are made that
can be sealed air-tight (for example, with adhesive
plaster). Articles to be stored are thoroughly
dried, sealed up in the boxes, on a day when the
air is not moist, and the chests are placed in the
cellar, resting on flat rocks.
Generally I prefer to build the cache separate
from the camp, and hidden at some distance from
It. Then, in case the camp is entered by prowlers,
or burned out, I will not be minus tools and bedding
at the next visit. The cache may be built of rocks
under the overhang of a ledge where nobody else
is likely to go, or of notched logs with slab roof
spiked down, or in other ways, according to circum-

stances. One will use his wits in utilizing such
facilities as the country affords.
Masked Camps.— I have had occasion to locate
my lone camp where it would be out of the way of
thieves or interlopers, beast or human, as I would be
away a good part of the time. Such devices will
vary, of course, with the locality one is in. Here
are a few general principles to bear in mind.
TOMAHAWK SHELTERS -=*jo
The camp is to be situated where not only men

but cattle and wild hogs are unlikely to go. There
should be nothing in the neighborhood to attract any
of the various classes of people who frequent thr
woods. Study each of , thesp
their habits. .
'/6>X%C>
,
%
classes .in turn,
'ti.^
an J
Fig. 68. —A Masked Camp

It should be invisible from trails, and from oppo-
site ridges.
It should be screened by tall trees, preferably
evergreens, so that the smoke of a properly fed fire
will not betray it by day, nor its light do so at night.
There should be plenty of down-wood in the
neighborhood, so that the noise of chopping may be
reduced to a minimum.
It should be not far from a regular trail because ;
you must go back and forth yourself, and if you

should make a new trail it soon would attract notice
and speculation.
It impossible for a man, even though he be
is
alone, to camp more than a day or two in one place

Avithout leaving footprints that a woodsman would
notice, unless the weather is extremely dry. The
problem, then, is to mask the points ot ingress and
€gress.
If is known to low
your presence in the country
characters, woods alibi, by building
establish a
another camp away from the real one, but some-
what more public. Build a fire there every day or
two, freshen the browse bed now and then, and
leave litter and footprints indicating recent occu-
pancy. The more shrewdly this false camp is lo-
cated the surer you are to lead busybodies to spy
after you in the wrong places.
An example of a successful masked camp is illus-
trated in Fig. 68.
An old trail up the creek used by herdsmen,
is
hunters, and others going up into the m.ountains.

Fishermen commonly wade the creek itself. On
the south side of the stream is a forest mostly of
oaks and chestnuts. On the north side is a laurel
thicket in which stand numerous birches and hem-
locks. To the north is a cliif or steep-sided ridge,
at the base of which is a spring.
Neither hogs nor cattle will go over into that
laurel thicket when there is an open forest of mast-
bearing trees on the other side of the creek, and a
regular trail running through it. Consequently
nobody looking for his hogs or cattle will cross the
stream at this point. Nor is there anything over
there to attract game or its pursuers. About the
only people who would be likely to go into such a
place are timber cruisers, who, of late years, actually
count every tree, or blockaders (moonshiners), or
spies serving the revenue agents.
If 'you know those woods, you know how long it
has been since its timber was "cruised," and the

likelihood of being gone over for tliat purpose this
it
year. Anyway* cruisers are decent fellows. The

spring branch and the solitude of that north side
would be attractive to blockaders looking for a new
location; but if they picked on it, they would erect
their still on the branch itself, low enough down
from the spring so that they could run water through
a spout to the worm of the still. Spies searching for
such gentry would go along the branch, and, finding
no sign, would waste no more 'ime there.
A man camping in that thicket would have to have
some way of getting in and out. It would be much too
wearisome to go a new way every time, crawling
through the laurel. That means he will make a
trail of his own. He leaves the regular trail and
steps into the creek not far from a point
opposite the mouth of the spring branch, and
up that branch he v/ades a short distance until out
of sight of the creek. Here he turns out into the
thicket to the left and trims a trail to the spring,
starting a few yards back from the branch so that
no marks are visible from it. Directly below the
sprmg he starts similarly a trail to the camp site,
where he trims out as much space as he needs. Dead
trees wind-thrown from the cliff supply him with
almost smokeless fuel, and dead laurel, of which
there is plenty in every thicket, gives him an abund-
ance of excellent kindling that is really smokeless.
When he chops, it will be so early in the morning
that nobody else will be within sound of it, for it is
an hour's wâlk, at least, from any house.
Whenever he goes to the spring, or returns from
It, he drops a dead laurel bush at the entrance to
the side trail leading to camp, the sprangling forks

of the bush being thrown outward, which would
deter any stranger from pushing through just at
that point. The entrance to this side trail, like the
one near the mouth of the branch, is ''blind" i. e.,
;
not visible from the branch, as you have to part

some bushes to find it.
CHAPTER XIV
CABIN BUILDING AND FITTING UP
Nobody knows what solid comfort ireans until
he finds himself, snug and well fed, in a bit of a
cabin, far away in the big sticks, while icy blasts
rebound from his stanch roof and walls, to go howJ-
ing away through a famine-stricken wilderness,
thwarted by a woodsman's providence and skill.
Open the door: you are face-to-face with misery
and death. Close it: the hearth-fire leaps, the
kettle sings, you smoke contentedly, and all is well.
A tent, at best, is only a shelter a cabin is a home.
:
Log walls insure everything within against storms

and prowling beasts. There are comfortable bunks
for Partner and you, a table, benches and stools or
chairs, a cupboard and bins with a good store of food,
a chest or two, shelves and racks, a fireplace or
stove. The weapons, tools, and utensils are hung
just where they are handiest. Plenty of good wood
is stacked in the dry. On wet days you can stay
indoors without feeling cramped or jailed. And
next season, when you come back again, how like
an old friend the log hut twinkles welcome!
I shall two types of simple one-
describe only
room would be built by hunters or
cabins, such as
others who go pretty far back into the woods and
require no more than a snug "home camp." For
designs of more elaborate Structures, to be used as
Summer homes in or near "civilization," the reader
IS referred to Kemp's Wilderness Homes (Outing
Publishing Co., New York) and Wickes' Log Cabins

(Forest and Stream Publishinq; Co., New York).
:abin building 237
In the first example I will assume that there is

a road or waterway to the camp site on which tools
and some materials can be transported by wagon,
boat, or raft; also that the cabin is to be large
enough for four men, but planned to economize
time and labor in construction, so that it may be
finished in a week. You are supposed to hire a man
with team to snake the logs in, unless enough suit-
able trees grow on the site itself.
f/r f/r/ / r t /- ^ • r r ^ ^ r// .' r V //
/^x/6
/•
-g-
LCL
Fig. — Log cabin (ground plan)

69.
a— door; b — fireplace, — windows;
4'; c, c d,
d — bunks, 4Jx6f'; — table, 3x4i'; — grub
e f
chest, 2'x3'; g—wash stand, lVx2V; straight
dotted lines indicate high shelves
Decide beforehand what kind of roof you shall

make. If it be of sawed shingles, or of roofing felt,
then you must take along roof-boards as a foundation
for them. A roof made simply of planks battened
and painted will last several years without any cover-
ing, and it is easiest of all to build but it is prone ;
to warp or cup, under a summer sun, and then leak.

If roofing felt is used, carry along; paint and brush
to take the black "curse" off. Clapboards riven from
neighbormg trees are chosen m the present instance,
as othermethods of roofing are familiar to everybody.
They no roof-boards, being nailed directly
call for
to the stringers (rafters that run parallel with the
ridge). The way to make them has been de-
scribed in Chapter XI I.
A stone chimney, with fireplace not less than four
feet wide, is ideal for heating a woodland home.
Nothing is so jolly as an open fire of hardwood logs.
With a Dutch oven or reflector, besides the ordin-
ary utensils (see Vol. I., pp. 65-66), you can cook
as well on the hearth and over the fire as in a stove.
But if rocks are scarce about your building site,
or if good fuel is not abundant, a stove will be
required. It will save a good deal of labor in build-
ing, and much wood chopping thereafter. Choose
for yourself.
Let us say that you decide on a clapboard roof
and a stone chimney, the house to be 14 x 16 feet
inside measurement, high enough for a porch in
front and a lean-to kitchen in the rear, to be added
in future. A ground plan is shown in Fig. 69. It
may be modified, of course, according to frontage
and other conditions.
The tools you ought to have for such a job are:
2 Axes, Jack plane,
2 Hatchets, Framing chisel (V^),
Crosscut saw (6 ft.) and Tape line,
handles, 2 ft. Rule,
Peavey, or cant hook, Steel square,
Sledge hammer (8 lb.), Pocket level to screw on
2 Steel wedges (5 lb.), square,
Froe, T-bevel,
Spade, Plumb-bob,
Mattock, Chalk line and chalk,
Hand saw, Orosscut satw file,
Rip saw, 2 Triangular files (7 in.
Compass saw, and 6 in. slim taper).
Brace, Mill file (8 in.),
Z Auger bits (H, H, 1/4).. Whetstone,
2 Drill bits (Vs, %), 50 ft. Rope (1 in.>.
Drawing knife.
CABIN BUILDING 239
have helped to build two clapboard-roofed cabins
I
with fewer tools than these, but the others would
have come in handy. We
had no need for any not
mentioned on this list. Some of these are used only
in making furniture. All of the light tools except
the square go in a carpenter's shoulder chest. The
crosscut saw should be tied between two thin boards,
as shipped from the factory.
Materials to be "carried in" are i^-in. planks
for flooring, dressed on one side; %-in. planks,
dressed on both sides, for door, casings, shutters,
furniture, and shelving; 2 glazed window sashes,
single; wire nails (4od, lod, 6d), wrought nails
for door and hinges; strap hinges for door and
cupboard and chests; door-lock; 2 flat steel bars
for fireplace lintel; round steel rod for "crane" in
fireplace heavy wire for pot-hooks.
; screen door, A
and wire screen cloth for windows, will add greatly
to comfort.
Site. —
Build where there is good natural drain-
age, and below a spring, or near some other source
of water supply that is beyond suspicion. Cut awajr
all trees that would shade the cabin except from the
afternoon sun. Forest air is nearly always damp,
and you need plenty of sunshine up to the noon
hour. If you are in an original forest of tall,
trees, bear in mind that such do not root nearly,
so firmly as trees growing alone m exposed positions.
When a tree of the ancient forest is left standing
by itself in overthrown by
a clearing, it is easily
v/ind so do not leave one of these near enough
;
to the house that it might crush your cabin.

The features of good and bad sites are dis-
cussed in Vol. I., pp. 208-214.
Do not dig a cellar under the house. A cellar
not cemented is a trap for water, especially when
the snow begins to melt. A small cache may be
dug under the center of the floor, where it will stay,
240 CAIvIFING AxND WOODCRAFr
Timber. —The logs should be straight and of
slight taper, the best of the smaller ones being
reserved for floor and roof timbers. Those for the
sillsshould be at least a foot thick, but the upper
courses may be smaller. The wood must be of
some species that is light and easy to work. Choice
will depend, of course, upon what is available. The
best common woods are the soft pines, spruce, and
V'oung chestnut. Sills should be of wood that is
and durable (see tables in Chapter XII). They

iitifi
may be cut long enough to support the porch, if

one is to be built. Tall, straight, slender trees are
common among the younger growth wherever the
stand of timber is dense.
Logs are best cut in spring or early summer, as
the bark then can be peeled with ease. If it is
left on, soon begins to loosen, moisture and in-

it
sects get under it, and decay sets in. Pine logs,
even after they are peeled, are attacked by "sawyers"
(wood-boring larvae of beetles) which advertise
their work by a creaking sound and by wood-dust
dropped from their borings. They work just un-
der the surface, in a girdling way, do no serious
damage, and cease operations after the first sea-
son.
Cut the wall logs about three feet longer than
the inside dimensions of the room, so as to allow
eighteen inches at each end for jointing, unless you
adopt one of the ways of building without notches
to be described hereafter. I have already told how
to select good board trees for the roofing.
Corners. — If the building site happens to be of
sand or gravel, and is flat, the may be laid
sills
directlyon the ground but if the place is not level,

;
or if there is soil on the surface, you should set

them up on piers or posts.
Stake out the corners, and square them by the
method shown in Fig i8. At each corner set
up either a pier of flat rocks or a heavy post.
CABIN BUILDING 241
These should go down in the ground below frost-

line, and project just enough to keep the sills oft
the ground all the way round. Lay the two sills
and level them by hewing out underneath or block-
ing up, and testing with the level on your square.
Tc make a good job of this, rip out two boards
about six inches wide, nail them together for a
straight-edge reaching from one corner to another
diagonally opposite, and use your level on the cen-
ter of the straight-edge, where it is most likely
to sag. When the sills are level and squared, block
them up near the center of each with rocks, to
keep them from springing and sagging. The tops
ot the sills and floor joists are to be scored and hewn
flat.
After laying the sills, dig down at the chimney

end to a solid base and lay a rock foundation for
chimney and hearth (Fig. jSd), the latter to pro-
ject about two feet Inward from front of fireplace.
Make corbels or some other arrangement for inner
ends of floor joists to rest on where they meet this
foundation.
Locking Corners. —^Wall
logs usually are
locked together at the corners by notching. There
are several ways of doing this. The quickest is the
saddle notch (Fig. 70) which has a wedge-shaped
cut on top of lower log and a V-notch in bottom
of the one that rides on it. This work is done
by eye alone, and calls for expert axemen.
Another is the rounded notch (Fig. 71) cut
nearly half-way through on under side of log. It
takes some trouble to round out the notch, but a
neat fit results. There might be a shallower rounded
notch cut on both top and bottom of each log, to
make the logs lie close together; but the upper
one would collect moisture and then decay would
set in.
A third way is to saw and split out one-fourth
the diameter on each side of the end (Fig. 72),
leaving the center like a tenon, and spike the ends
together. This makes close joints, and shorter logs
are used, as the ends do not project. It is hest
adapted to poles of six-inch diameter and under,
which do not require large spikes.
'WJm
Fig. 70. — Saddle notch Round notch
A
very good way, especially for amateurs, is to
saw the logs to exact dimensions of inierior of room
designed, and spike the ends to an L-shaped ''trough"
of heavy plank (Fig. 73) which, when set on end,
will reach to the height of the walls. First lay
the four bottom logs, and spike the troughs upright
/^-^
Fig". 12. —Tenon-shaped —"Trough'* corner

end Fig. IZ.
to the corners, having, of course, plumbed and

braced them in position. Then proceed similarly
with the other logs until walls are finished. Th'*s
makes close joints that require little chinking,
if the
logs are straight. Finish the open corners by quar-

tering a large log, or hewing four small ones, cut
to height of walls, and nailing them to the troughs
as shown. This is easier and quicker than notch-
ing. If you choose this plan, take along some 2-inch
plank for the troughs, as thinner stuff is not stiff
or strong enough also some 6od nails or spikes.
;
Joists and Walls. — Having fitted cross logs to

the sills, again to insure that all is square.
test
Then fit the ends of the joists into gains chiseled
out of the sills (Fig. 74), The logs for joists
CABIN BUILDING 243
should be fully eight inchcb thick, or they will be
too spiîngy. They may be spaced about two feet
apart from center to center. Different thicknesses
can be allowed for in shaping them to the gains, so
that all may be level.
^&^
Fig. 74. — Fitting joists
Now go ahead with the walls. Lay the logs
with butts and small ends alternating, so the walls
may go up of even height. To raise the logs, as
the work advances, lean two poles against the wall
as skids. Near each end of the top log fasten a
rope, pass the free ends of the ropes under and
over the log to be lifted, and up to the corner men,
who pull on these while other men push from be-
low.
At the height of windows, door and fireplace^
make saw cuts almost through the upper log, in each
case, at proper distance apart, so that afterward
the crosscut blade can be pushed through and the
spaces sawed out.
Roof. —For a clapboard roof the stringers or
rafters run lengthwise of the cabin instead of
from eaves to ridge 75). The gables are
(Fig.
built of logs notched for the stringers, spiked to-
gether, and cut to the proper pitch. Select straight,
slender poles for stringers. The ridge pole should
be heavier: say 8 or 10 inches thick.
The pitch of the roof will depend upon climatic
conditions; rather flat for a dry region, and steeper
for a wet one (not less than one foot rise to two of
width tor main building, and one to four for porch
and kitchen). If there are heavy snowfalls, a steep
pitch is required to stand the strain, and to keep
snow-water from backing up under the shingles.
In laying the roof, begin at the eaves, letting
several inches overhang. The clapboards should
also project a little at the sides of the roof. When
the first course is laid, take the straight-edge that
Fig. 75. — Log cabin (end view)
you used for leveling the sills and nail It lightly

on top of this course as a guide for the next to butt
against. Then lay the second course, breaking
joints carefully;and so on to the top. If you
finish the ridge with a saddle-board (inverted trough
to shed water from the joint), or a log hewed out
to serve as such, then the clapboards are sawed off
to fit. Otherwise, let the top course on one side
project, slanting upward over the other (this is not
a reliable device for a very windy or snowy climate).
Floor. — In laying the floor, leave an open space
in front of fireplace for the hearth. As the joists
will shrink In seasoning, It Is wÎse to use as few
nails as practicable (only at ends of boards). Next
year the planks may be taken up to be refitted
where they have gaped apart, blocked up where the
joists have sagged, driven tight together by an extra
strip, and then nailed permanently In place.
—
Door and Windows. Before sawing out the
door space, tack a plank vertically on each side
as a guide, and block or wedge the logs so they canno*^
CABIN BUlLDirsG 245
sag when cut through. Remove one handle from
your crosscut saw, push the blade through the cut
that you made when building the wall, attach handle
again, and saw out. Snap a chalk-line along the
log that comes directly over the doorway, and chisel
out a section three or four inches deep for top of
door frame to be nailed to. Spike the jambs to
ends of abutting logs. Fit in a washboard beveled
•on both sides.
The door should swing inward ; otherwise, if the
cabin is occupied in winter, you may find your egress
blocked by a snow-drift.
If you can bring in a screen door, by all mean?
do so. In such case you may as well bring also &
ready-made door and casing. If means of trans-
portation do not permit this, then make a simple
batten door. Use wrought nails, as they can be
clinched more neatly and firmly than wire ones.
To hang a door: Place it exactly in position
(shut) with bottom and sides wedged to give
proper clearance. Set the top hinge so that its pin
is just in line with crack between door and jamb,
and nail it; so also with the lower one. Fit the
lock, or make a wooden latch and attach hasp and
padlock.
The windows, being only single sashes, may be
hinged to their casings, like the door, or fitted on
slides (Fig. 78). Shutters should be provided to
close the openin2;s when the cabin is left unoccupied.
They may be fitted to bolt from the inside.
There may well be a third window in our design,
alongside the door and over the washstand. If a
kitchen is added, the rear window space will be
sawed down for a doorway.
—
Chimney. Saw out of the end wall a space for
the chimney, just as you did for the doorway. The
opening between wing walls of fireplace should
be about 4 feet wide, 18 inches deep, and 3 feet
high. The sides of fireplaces often are built nar»
row within and outward, so as to help throw,
flaring I
the heat out into the room. This is well enough
where fuel must be economized but in the big for-
;
est, where there is abundance, it is best to build

the fireplace with straight sides, so that backlogs of
nearly 4-foot length can be
used. This saves a lot of
chopping.
If the back of the fire-
place is built up straight
into the flue, the chinmey
is very likely to bmoke
whenever the air is heavy
or the winds contrary.
To insure a good draught,
build the upper part of
the fireback with a forward
slope, as shown in Fig.
76, forming a "throat" {a)
about 5 inches above the
front arch or lintels
of
and only 3 or 4 inches
deep. The top of this
throat forms a ledge (b)
Fig. 76.— Fireplace that checks wind from
(vertical section) rushing down the flue.
To support the rocks over instead

the fireplace,
of building an arch (which is likely to crack or give
way from settling of chimney) set in two flat steel
bars, 2^ X 34 inch, as lintels (c).

Build the wing walls of the fireplace out Into the
cabin far enough to protect the ends of abutting
logs, and to support a plank or puncheon for man-
telshelf (e). The upper part of the chimney goes
quite outside the cabin, and so requires no flashings.
In backwoods cabins the chimneys generally are
built up without mortar, clay being used instead.
As clay shrinks and loosens in drying, such a struc-
ture must be chinked over again at Intervals. It
is more satisfactory to take in with you a sack of
CABIN BUILDING 247
cement, If possible, and use around the joints of

fireplace and hearth a mixture of one part cement
to two of clean sand. Mix only a little at a time,
as it soon sets. However, this may be deferred until
the second season, by which time the chimney is
likely to have settled and opened the joints here and
there.
Wherever there is limestone, enough lime for mor-
tar can be made without much trouble, by a pro-
cess similar to that of burning charcoal. Enclose
a circular space of 5 feet diameter by a rude stone
wall 3 feet high cover the bottom of this enclosure
;
with brush to facilitate kindling the kiln; then fill

with alternate layers of dry hardwood and lime-
stone broken into moderate-sized pieces, piling the
top into conical form. Light the pile, and when
it is well going, cover the top with sods to make
the calcination slow and regular. Keep it going

for two days and nights. Lime can also be made
from mussel shells or oyster shells. Slake the lime
in a box some days before it is to be used, and cover
with sand.
For mortar, work the lime into a paste with water
and mix in with this, thoroughly, from 2 3^ to 3
parts of sand. Thin with water until it mixes
easily.
A
pretty good substitute for mortar is blue clay
(yellow will do) mixed intimately with wet sand.
Another is a mixture of sand, salt, and wood ashes.
When laying a chimney or wall, see that no joint
comes over or close to another joint. If a rock
does not fit, turn it over and try again.
At the proper height in your fireplace (a little be-
low level of lintels) insert a stout steel rod hor-
izontally on which to hang wire pot-hooks when
cooking. In place of andirons, select two rocks
about 15 x 5 x 5 inches, to support the "fire irons"
for frying-pan, etc. (See Vol. I, p. 64.) Never
lay backlogs on them: they are only to be used
when cooking, or to hold forestick in place.
Chinking. —
If there are large crevices between
the logs they should be filled with quartered poles.
Small ones are caulked with moss or clay. Mortar
should never be used for this purpose until the logs
have seasoned thoroughly and got their "set."
Fittings. —
In Fig. 69, a pair of pole bunks are
shown {d, d) across the end of the room opposite
the fireplace, where they are least in the way. They
are to be built high enough to store personal chests
under. A
high window at c lets in the morning
light. Each bunk is roomy enough for two per'
sons.
The table {e) is movable. The provision ches^
(/) may be lined with zinc to keep out rodents, al-
though wire screen cloth is effective and easier to
apply. It serves as a bin for flour, potatoes, etc.
Over it hangs a cupboard for dishes and minor
foodstuffs.
Dotted lines show high shelves around three sides
of the room. At ^ is a stand for water pail and
basin, with towel and mirror above and slop pail
underneath. Dry wood is piled in the corner be-
tween this 'and the fireplace. A broom is hung be-
hind the door. Chairs or stools go where most con-
venient at the time.
Axeman's Cabin. — It is quite practicable to
build a «mall cabin with no other tool than the axe,
and out of no other materials than such as grow
on or around the site. This often is done in re-
mote forests where there is no road. In such case
the shack is no larger than actually necessary say —
8 X 10 feet, or at most 10 x 12.
The roof may be of bark (see Chapters XII and
XIII) held down by weight-poles running from
ridge to eaves and tied together in pairs at the top to
keep them from slipping down. However, a bark
roof is flimsy. A much better arrangement is to
•"carry in" a ready-made paulin of 12-oz. canvas,
CABIN BUILDING 249.
which can be bought of a tent maker or a mail order

house, a can of paint, and a brush (or the paulin may
be waterproofed before starting — see Vol. I., p. 72),
and tack this to the rafters. Thus a durable and
perfectly reliable roofis quickly made.
These small shacks are best heated by a folding

stove of sheet iron, which can be carried in on a
man's back. Take along, also, a collar for the pipe.
When two men to do the
there are only one or
work, the house may have to be built of poles.
In such case I prefer a shed-roof construction, as it
takes less material and is easier erected than one
with a ridge. But if there are trees that split
easily, it is better to build of logs split through
the center. These half-logs are easy to handle, easy
to notch and lock at the corners, make close joints
and require little chinking; besides, since the walls
are flat inside, there is less waste of space and ma-
terial. It not neces-
is
sary to floor such

a shack. Some use
poles for the pur-
pose; but a pole
floor hard to
is
keep clean and of-

fers harborage for
vermin. A
hard-
trodden earthen
floor is easy to
sweep and can be
kept quite neat. It
is warmer than an
ill-fitting one of
boards or punch-
eons.
Thedoor can be
made of boards
riven with axe and
wooden wedges,
Fig. 77.-— Cabin door (wooden
hinges and latch) with wooden
hinges and latch,,
as in Fig. 77. The hinge pins are made of cuts froni
a sapling, slightly flattened on the inner side and
with tops whittled to fit holes in flattened ends of
top and bottom door battens, which are half-round.
The latch guard and catch are of naturally bent
branches or roots, or may be whittled out. The
end of latch string that hangs outside is knotted so
it cannot pull through the hole.
Cabin windows, when glass is unobtainable, may

be made of translucent parchment (recipes in Chap-
ter XVII), but it is better to carry in with the out-
fit a sheet or two of transparent celluloid, such as
is employed for automobile curtain windows. Lack-

ing all such materials, cut out a window space, any-
way, that can be left open in fair weather and
closed with split boards at other times.
Rustic Furniture. Boards riven — like clap-
boards from green timber are likely to warp ip
seasoning unless stacked carefully, or held in forms
aPE
lui M l.\ 'M (,f M MM
l^^ N,'> /;.'j ^'^ t'.'l Ml rM-)i)c.\Li /-:! 1-.'!) HA WTTffW
•I
Fig. 78. — Pole bunk (for four men)

until they have dried through. If only one flat side
is required, as in shelving, seats of stools and benches
and so forth, split a small log in two and hew the
flat side smooth. A number of these joined side by
side, and cleated on the under side, will serve very
well for a table top or other broad surface.
The bunk (Fig. 78), for four men, is made
by running a pair of straight poles about 4^^
feet apart, from side to side of cabin, fitting the ends
CABIN BUILDING 251
in the joints between wall logs, and supporting the

middle on posts. Athwart these are laid small poles
to support the mattresses and on top of them, direct-
ly over the large poles, are fastened two other long
poles as guards. The mattresse3 are simple bed
ticks filled with fine browse or whatever other
soft stuff is available. It pays to take ticks along,
as they hold the stuff in place and are easy to refill.
Double berths, one above the other, are nuisances
in every way. Folding cots are more cleanly than
any kind of fixed berths, and they can be carried
out of the house to sun and air while the floor
is being swept.
The table (Fig. 79) has no rounds nor braces at
the bottom, which would be in the way when people
Fig. 79.—Table
were seated at dinner. The legs may be made

of four pieces of sapling squared for nailing cleats
at the top, and the lower parts may then be shaved
round or tapered. Make the table 30 inches high.
The washstand is simply a broad shelf attached
to a cleat on the cabin wall and supported further
by brackets or diagonal braces, leaving the space
underneath clear.
Regular chairs should not be made until proper

wood has been thoroughly
seasoned for this purpose.
If ft is to be used with the
bark on it must be cut
in mid-winter. Meantime
the occupants of the cabin
can use stools (Fig. 80)
and benches (Fig. 81)
Fig. 80.— Stool made of green wood b}^
splitting out slabs and
fitting natural round sticks in auger holes for legs,
wedging these in like an axe helve so they can be
refitted when the wood has shrunk in seasoning.
Fig-. 81.— Bench
An easy chair Is readily made, as shown in Fig. 82,

by using a piece of canvas for seat and back.
Split-bottom chairs (Fig.
83) are particularly ap-
propriate in a log cabin.
Those common in the
backwoods are generally
made stumpy (only 16
inches high in front and
15 in the rear). It is bet-
ter to make them 18 inches
to top of seat, so they will
be right for a 30-inch
height of table. In mak-
ing them you will need a Fig. 82. — Easy chair
drawing knife, a ^-in.
CABIN BUILDING 253
*bit and ^-In. chisel to mortise slots for the three
broad splits that connect the back posts (round
sticks may be used
1^
instead of splits). ffc^^
A 60-cent hollow
auger, commonly SI
used for making
tenons, is better
^Wi^pi-ynsM i'
than a spoke sizer
to fit the ends of [
rounds to their holes.

Besides gluing these
ends, you can f ox- ^J
wedge
in
them
place
(Fig.
by
Fig. 83. — Split-bottom chair
84)
splitting each end a little and inserting a thin wedge
before driving home.
To fill the chair seat, use oak
or other splits (see Chapter
XIII) in the manner shown in
Fig. 85. Cut the end of a split
narrow enough to tie easily
around the side bar at a. Then
run it across and pass it under
and back over the opposite bar,
„ and so on, as the cut shows.
^. „^
^ 84.
Fig. — Fox-wedge
,
When you get^ ^to û

^ -1,7, ;»
the end!
of this split, tie another to it, keeping knots on
under side of chair w^here they will not show.
When the seat is filled up with the strips going^
one way, fasten the end, beginning at rear (b), and

run others crosswise, in and out, until the seat is
finished.
Instead of the plain pattern shown in this ex-
ample, it is better to weave a diagonal one similar

to that in the back of the rocking chair (Fig. 86).
To do this, run the strands as follows:
1. Over two, under two, etc.
2. Under one, over two, under two, etc.
3. Under two, over two, etc.
4. Over one, under two, over two, etc.
Fig. 85. — Bottoming chair with splits
Repeat in above order. Be sure to draw the split

as tightly as you can every time it crosses the chair.
Raw deerskin, or other animal pelt, makes good
chair seats.
Racks for guns, clothing, etc.,
are easily provided by cutting

crotches of small limbs and
nailing them up in convenient
places. Wooden pins set in
auger holes in the walls may be
used for similar purposes. If
you have no auger, a hardwood
pin can be driven into a soft-
wood log by trimming its point
Fig. 86. — Rustic wedge-shape and starting it in
rocker
a nick made with the corner
of the axe blade.
Ovtside, under the projecting roof at a gable end,
CABIN BUILDING 253
fix a rack on which full-rigged fishing rods may be
stood during the day (of course, you will unjoint
them and take them in at night). This rack con-
sists simply of a small shelf for the butts, and, high up
a narrow shelf with auger holes bored close to the
edge and a narrow slot cut out from each hole
to the edge for a rod tip to slip through.
The first essential of good housekeeping is a
broom. Tie together a round bundle of thin birch,
willow, or other flexible twigs. Cut a broomstick,
sharpen one end, and drive this pointed end into the
center of the bunch —
then it will hold fast.
Some rainy day you can make a really first-class
broom from birch splints. Select a straight yellow
birch five inches in diameter and cut off a six-foot
length. At about fourteen inches from the bip"
end cut a ring around the bark about two inches
wide. Peel off all the bark below that ring. Then,
working wîth a sharp jackknife, split small flat
slivers from the butt end up to the bark ring. Con-
tinue until there is nothing left of the butt save a
small core at the top, and cut this off carefully.
Then remove the bark above the ring and sliver
the wood down until there is only enough left foT
a broom-handle. Tie this last lot of slivers tightly
down over the others with a stout string. Trim
off the slivers evenly. Then whittle off the handle,
smooth it with glass, make a hole inits top and in-
sert a hide loop to hang
it up by. This is the
famous splint broom of our foremothers, as described
by Miss Earle in her Home Life in Colonial Days.
Don't crowd the cabin with decorations or "con-
veniences" that will be in the way and serve chiefly
to collect dust and cobwebs. Let each and every
article have a definite purpose, and show it by its
perfect adaptability. The simplest contrivances
generally are the best,
CHAPTER XV
BARK ROPES AND
UTENSILS— BAST
TWINE— ROOT AND VINE CORDAGE-
WITHES AND SPLITS
Among the many interesting woodsmen that I
have known was one who, years agone, had lived a
long time alone in the forest, not far from where
Daniel Boone's last cabin was built, in what is now
St. Charles County, Missouri. I call him a woods-
man, because he had to be, and loved to be, a real

one but beyond that he was a scholar. In his young
;
manhood he took to the woods that he might gain

first-hand knowledge of Nature, and have leisure
for a colossal labor of love: that of translating into.
English, with his own exegesis, the works of the
philosopher Hegel. When the Civil War broke
out, hermit abandoned his cabin and raised
this
a body of volunteers to defend the Union. After-
ward he became Lieutenant Governor of his State.
One day we were discussing those traits of our
old-time frontiersmen that made them irresistible
as conquerors of the West. The Colonel lamed,
as one factor, their extraordinary shiftiness in shap-
ing the simplest or most unlikely means to Im-
portant ends, and he illustrated It with an anecdote.
"I knew an old man of the Leatherstocking type
who once was far away and alone In the wilder-
ness, hunting and trapping, when the mainspring
of hi? flint-lock rifle broke. Now what do you sup-
pose he did?"
"Made a new one out of an odd bit of steel.'*
"No, sir: he had no bit of steel."
2S^
BARK UTENSILS 257
of seasoned hickory or bois d'arc."

"Then
*'No room for it in the lock. The old man had
killed a turkey. He split several quills of its pinions,
overlaidthem one on another, bound them together
with wet sinews that shrunk when they dried, and
— there was his mainsprmg. It worked."
—
Boiling Water in a Bark Kettle. Â com-
petent woodsman can cook good meals without any
utensils except what he makes on the spot from
materials that liearound him, and he will waste
no time at it. In the chapters on Camp Cookery*
I have shown how to broil, grill, roast, bake, bar-
becue, plank and steam without utensils. But, it
may be asked, how would one boil water without
a metal kettle? There is more than one way of
doing this.
One of them, w^hich many have read of, but few
nowadays have seen, is to split a short log, chop
out of it a trough, pour water in, heat a number
of small round stones to a white heat, pick up one
with a forked stick or extemporized tongs, drop it
into the water, add another, and so on until the
water boils, which will be very soon. To keep it
boiling, remove the stones and add others from the
fire. You must select such stones as will neither
burst in the fire nor, like sandstone, shiver to pieces
when dropped in the water.
/ Another way, which will be news to many, is to
boil the water in a bark kettle by direct action of
the fire. The thin inner bark of many species of
trees will do, or a thin sheet of the bark of the
paper birch, notwithstanding that it is so notoriously
inflammable that we use it for kindling. No, this
is not a trick; it is a practical expedient.
But first you must know how to make a water-
tight vessel out of nothing but a square sheet of pli-
able bark and a couple of thorns or splinters. Seem?
*See Vol. I., pp. 293-299, 301, 309, 312, 315, 317, 319, 322-324.
330, 344-346, 352, 369.
2S8 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
impossible? Nay, very simple. Try it at home
with a sheet of writing paper. Cut out a 12-inch
square (or smaller —
I give dimensions for a real
bark kettle in which to boil a quart or more of
g p 1
d R m
Fig. 87. — Folds for water tight vessel
ivater). Note the diagram (Fig. 87). Fold ovei

from d to c making the points of triangle meet at a.
Open up, and fold similarly from a to b. Open
again, and you have the diagonal creases ab and dc.
Turn the sheet over, and fold from ad along the
line ?kj which is to be 3^ inches
from the margin. Similarly
fold cbj dbj and ac. You now
have made all creases as in the
figure. They are your guides
in making a neat job.
Fig. 88.—
Grasp the point i with one Bark kettle
hand and e with the other, raise (end)
them, and bring them together:
This throws a outward at an angle. Fold a over to
right on the outside, and hold it there. Do the same
at the corner c. These two corners now wîll over-
lap on the outside, as in Fig. 88. Fasten them with
BARK UTENSILS 259
a pin (with a splinter like a skewer, if you are

using bark;. In the same wây fold the corners
d and bj and pin them. The creases tio, pq, np, oq,
now are folded inward, instead of outward as they
were originally. Here you have an open-top box
5 inches square and 3^ inches deep, with per-
fectly tight joints, which will hold water so long
as it does not seep through the pores of the paper
(would hold it till it evaporated, if you had used,
bark).
Now, ifyou are skeptical about boiling water in a
bark kettle, suppose you try your paper one. Ar-
range a stand that will support it over a gas jet.
Put the paper kettle on the stand and pour some
water into it. Light the gas, raising the jet just
high enough for it to play on the bottom of the
vessel but not up the sides; for, mark you, if the
ilame touches the paper anywhere above the water-
line, it will set the thing afire. Observing this pre-
caution, you can boil water in the paper kettle quick-
er than you could in tin.
The reason that the paper is not even scorched is
that the water inside instantly attracts the heat of
the flame and absorbs it to itself. My partner,
Bob, once told me he could take a boiling tea-kettle
from the stove, put his naked hand on the bottom,
and hold the thing out at arm's length. I smiled.
He led the way to the kitchen, where an old-
fashioned black kettle of cast-iron was steaming at
a hard boil, did as he had offered, and sustained no
injury whatever. Then I did it myself. The bot-
tor-i of the kettle merely feels warm to the naked
hand. But the water must be boiling, not just
simmering. If one touches the vessel above the
water-line, he will get a severe burn.
In making a bark kettle, the material must,
of
course, be quite free from holes or cracks. In the case
of birch, select a sheet free from "eyes" and surface
curls." Supple it by roasting gently over the f^re.
1 have boiled water in such a vessel by setting it
directly on the coals, and covering all around its
bottom with ashes, so no flame could reach the sides.
For your first trial it will be better to build a little
circular fireplace of stones, with a draught hole at
the bottom, and cover the top with flat rocks, leav-
ing an opening of about three inches diameter for
the bottom of jôur kettle. Fill this with live coals,
and chink with mud, so that no flame can get out.
It might seem impossible to melt snow in such a
bark utensil, but the thing can be done when you
know how. Place the kettle in the snow before the
fire, so it warp from the heat. In front of
will not
it set a number of little forked sticks, slanting back-
ward over the kettle, and on each fork place a

snowball. Thus let the snowballs melt, into the
kettle until the vessel is filled as nearly as you want
it. Then set the kettle on the coals, cover around
it with ashes to keep flame from the sides, and the
water will boil in a few minutes.

—
Bark Utensils. Vessels to hold water or other
liquids can be made, as above, of any size, square or
Fig. 89. — Bark water Fig. 90. — Bark trough

bucket or basin
rectangular. You soon will learn the trick of fold-

ing the corners without preliminary folding and
creasing. Since the top of a cubical bark vessel
BARK QTENSILS 261
of this sort readily adapts itself to a circular shape,

when softened by heating, one can make a water
bucket, for example, by sewing a hoop or splint (like
a basket splint) around the inside of the top edge,
and adding another vertically for bail, like a basket
handle, going clear around the bottom to take up
Fig. 91.—Bark Fig. 92.— Bark

barrel berry pail
the strain (Fig. 89). Punch

the holes with a sharp
ened twig for awl, and use rootlets or bast fiber,
soaked in water, for thread, or lace the loop in place
with narrow strips of pliable bark.
Fig. 93. — Pocket cup (folding)
Wash basins and the like are made in the same

way, shallow without bails. A
trough or tub, of
any size, to hold liquids, is quickly made by rossing
off the thick outer bark from the ends of a sheet of
elm, basswood, poplar, cottonwood, or other suitable
material, but leaving it on the middle part to stiffen
the vessel; the rossed ends are then folded over in
several overlaying laps, gathered in somewhat the
shape of a canoe's bow and stern, and tied with bark
straps (Fig. 90). The Indians used to make such
tioughs for collecting maple sap. They also made elm
barrels (Fig. 91) thatwould last for years. Their
bark buckets often were made with lapped seams,
sewed together with bark or root twine (Fig. 92).
The seams were closed with a mixture of pine resin
or spruce "gum" and grease or oil, laid on while
hot, and the upper edges were stiffened with hoops
or splints of pliable wood.
To make a folding bark cup for the pocket:
take a sheet of thin bark about 7 inches square and
fold it diagonally {a to b. Fig. 93). Now fold
the corner c over to the left so that its upper edge
coincides with the dotted line that extends horizon-
tally from d. Then fold, over this, the corner e
straight to This leaves two triangular flaps
d.
standing out at the top, a and b. Slip the inner
one, a into the outer pocket formed by e, and fold
the flap b backward over the outside. You now
have a flat cup that holds about a quarter of a
pint. To open it, press against the outer edges
with the thumb and finger. When carrjqng it in
your pocket, slip the flap b in along with a, and the
cup is closed against dirt.
A bark dipper is easily made. Take a sheet
about 8 X 10 inches, trim it to spade shape (Fig. 94),
fold it lengthwise from A to B, open it out, place
the second flnger behind A, and make the fold up-
ward as shown at F. Cut a stick for handle, with
stub of a fork at one end to hang it up by. Split
the other end of the stick, insert F in the cleft,
and bind it fast with a narrow strap of bark.
A strong and durable tray, dish pan, or similar
utensil, is made Fig 90, with the addition of a
like
hickory or other rim like that of Fig. 92, sewed on
BARK UTENSILS 263
the outside. Leave the thick bark on the sides to

stiffen them, but shave it off of the bottom, so that
the vessel will stand upright.
Fig. 94. — Bark dipper
Bark Fish Buckets and Corseaux. —Every

trout fisherman knows how bothersome a willow
cieel is when he is fishing the brushy head waters
of a stream. And a creel is a nuisance not to be
thought of when one is off on a hiking trip. can- A
vas bag, with or without rubber lining, is compact
enough, but it is mussy and does not keep the fish
in good order. To carry trout on a stringer is
-\
Fig. 95. Fold for fish bucket
barbarism. So, look for a young basswood, or

poplar, or other smooth-barked tree that will peel.
It need not be more than 9 or ic inches thick. Strip
from it a rectangular sheet about 12 x 2.2 inches.
Also cut a bark carrying strap about 4^/2 feet long,
and a quite narrow one for thongs.
Fold the sheet of bark across the middle of the
longer dimensions {a-b. Fig. 95), and bring the
ends together, one overlap-
ping the other. The na-
tural convexity of the bark
spreads it out into an
oval at the top. If the
bucket were to bs used for
berry picking, or the like,
you would fasten the top
by merely cutting holes
through at A, Fig. 96, and
Fig. 96. — Fish bucket the corresponding point
on the opposite side, and
tying with bark thongs. For a fish basket, the
thong is strung crisscross as shown in the illustration,
as this keeps the fish from flopping out. Attach
a bark shoulder strap through slits in the back, and
the thing is done. You
have a sweet, clean ''bucket"
that carries under the left arm without bulging so
much as a creel, and no top is needed. Put clean
ferns or grass over the fish when the sun is hot, and
they will keep moist and firm and well-colored, all
day. This bucket is easier to wash than a creel.
In a week, if you are to stay longer, make a new
one, as the old one will have warped.
Large packs for the back are made In the same
way, from balsam or other bark, but laced up along
the sides, stiffened by a couple of hoops on the in-
side, and fitted with a pack strap of bark or plaited
fiber. Aflap to cover It, If wanted. Is provided by
an extension of the bark at the top, which Is rossed
off to make It flexible. Such a carrier Is called by
the French Canadians a corseau (from casseau).
In warm weather It Is more comfortable to carry
ihan a blanket pack, as It does not sweat the back.
B.AST —
Ropes and Twine. Straps, %h-stringers,
?tc.. are made from the whole bark of pawpaw.
BARK UTENSILS 265
leathenvood (remarkably strong), and hickory

shoots. Very good ropes and twine can be made
from the fibers of the inner bark of the slippery,
white, and winged elms, the pignut and other hick-
ories, white oak, and buckeye, red cedar, yellow lo-
cust, red mulberry, and Osage-orange. One who
has not examined the finished work would scarce be-
lieve what strong, soft, and durable cordage, mat-
ting, braided tump-lines, and even thread, fish-nets,
and garments can be made from such materials by
proper manipulation. The Indians first separate
the bark in long strips, remove the woody outer
layer, and then boil it in a lye of sifted wood ashes
and water, w^hich softens the fiber so it can be
manipulated without breaking. After it is dried it
can be separated into small filaments by pounding,
the strings running with the grain for several feet.
Slippery elm especially makes a pliable rope, soft
to the touch ; it can be closely braided, and is very
durable. If the woody splinters and hard frag-
ments have not been entirely removed by pounding,
the shoulder blade of a deer is fastened to an up-
right post, an inch hole is drilled through it, and
bunches of the boiled bark are pulled backward and
forward through the hole. The filaments are then
put up in hanks and hung aside for use, being boiled
to supple them when needed.
Bark twine is made by holding in the left hand
one end of the fiber as it is pulled from the hank,
and separating it into two parts, which are laid
across the thigh. The palm of the right hand is
then rolled forward over both, so as to twist tightly
the pair of strands, when they are permitted
to unite and twist into a cord, the. xcft hand draw-
ing it away
as completed. Other strands are twisted
in to make
the length of cord desired. Twine and
thread are made from the bark of young sprouts.
The bast or inner rind of basswood (linden)
m.akes good rope. More than a century ago, two
Indians whose canoe had drifted, while they were
;

in adrunken sleep, upon Goat Island, between the
American and Canadian falls of Niagara, let them-
selvesdown over the face of the cliff by a rope that
they made from basswood bark, and thus escaped
from what seemed to the on-lookers as certain death
by starvation.
Mulberry and Osage orange bast yield a fine,
white, flax-like fiber, that used to be spun by squaws
to the thickness of packthread and then woven into
garments. The inner bark of Indian hemp
{Apocynum cannabinmn) collected in the fall, is soft
^
silky, and exceedingly strong. The woody stems

are first soaked in water; then the bast, with bark
adhering, is easily removed; after which the bark
is washed off, leaving the yellowish-brown fiber
ready to be picked apart and used. A
rope made
from it is stronger, and keeps longer in water, than
one made from common hemp. It was formerly
used by the Indians, almost all over the contment,
not only for ropes, but for nets, threads, and gar-
ments. The fibers of the nettle were also similarly
used.
In the southern Appalachians, it is not many
j'êars since the mountain women used to

make bedcords (perhaps you know how strong such
cords must be) by twisting or plaiting together long,
slender splits of hickory wood (preferably mocker-
nut) that they suppled by soaking. Such bed-cords
are in use to this day.
—
Root and Vine Cordage. ^The remarkably
tough and pliable rootlets of white spruce, about the
size of a quill, when barked, split, and suppled in
water, are used by Indians to stitch together the
bark plates of their birch canoes, the seams being
smeared with the resin that exudes from the tree
also for sewing up bark tents, and utensils that will
hold water. The finely divided roots are called by
northern Indians watab or zvatape.
Twine and stout cords are also made of this ma-
terial, strands for fish-nets being sometimes made
BARK UTENSILS 267
as iiûch as fifty yards in length. The old-time

Indians used to say that bark cords were better than
hemp as they did not rot so quickly from
ropes,
alternate wetting and drying, nor were they so
harsh and kinky, but, when damped, became as sup^
pie as leather. "Our bast cords," they said, "are
always rather greasy in the water, and slip more
easily through our hands. Nor do they cut the skin,
like your ropes, when anything has to be pulled.
Lastly, they feel rather warmer in winter."
The fibers and of hemlock,
of tamarack roots,
cedar, and cottonwood, are similarly used. Dan
Beard says: "I have pulled up the young tamarack
trees from where they grew in a cranberry 'mash'
and used the long, cord-like roots for twine with
which to tie up bundles. So pliable are these
water-soaked roots that you can tie them in a knot
with almost the same facility that you can your shoe-
string. . . , Each section of the country has its
own peculiar vegetable fiberwhich was known to

the ancient red men and used by them for the pur-
r>oses named. . Dig up the trailing roots of
. .
young firs or other saplings suitable for your use,

test them and see if they can be twisted into cord-
age stout enough for your purpose. Coil the green
roots and bury them under a heap of hot ashes from
your camp-fire, and there allow them to steam in
tb.eir own sap for an hour, then take them out,
split them into halves and quarters, and soak them

in water until they are pliable enough to braid into
twine or twist into withes. Don't gather roots
over one and one-half inches thick for this purpose."
The long, tough rootstocks of sedge or saw-grass
are much used by our Indians as substitutes for
twine. Baskets made of them are the strongest,
most durable and costliest of all the ingenious pro-
ducts of the aboriginal basket -maker. The fiber is
strongest when well moistened. The stringy roots

of the catgut or devil's shoe-string {Cracca or Te-
phrosia), called also goat's rue or hoary pea, are
tough and flexible.
Grapevine rope is made in a manner similar to
bark rope. The American wistaria {Kraunhia fru-
tt'scens) is so tenacious and supple that it was form-
erly used along the lower Mississippi for boats'
cables; it can also be knotted with ease.
Withes. — Â favorite basket plant of the Apaches
and Navajos is the ill-scented sumac or skunk-bush
(Rhus trilobata), which is common from Illinois
westward. The
twigs are soaked in water, scraped,
and then split. Baskets of this material are so-
made that they wîll hold water, and they are often
used to cook in, by dropping hot stones in the
tvater. A
southern shrub, the supple-jack (Ber-
cliemia scundens) makes good withes.
, The fibers
of the red-bud tree are said by basket-makers to
^qual in strength those of palm or bamboo. For
such purpose as basket-making, withes should be
gathered in spring or early summer, when the wood
is full of sap and pliable. If the material is to
be kept for some time befoie weaving, it should be
buried in the ground to keep it fresh. In any
case, a good soaking is necessary, and the work
should be done while the withes are still wet and
soft. Other good woods for withes are ash, white
oak, hickory, yellow birch, leatherwood, liquidam-
bar, willow, and witch hazel. Large withes for
binding rails, raft logs, etc., are made from tall
shoots or sprouts of hickory or other tough wood,
by twisting at one end with the hands until the fiber
separates into strands, making the withe pliable so
that it can be knotted. This usually is done before
cutting off the shoot from its roots. A sapling as
thick as one's wrist can be twisted by cutting it
down, chopping a notch in a log (making it a little

wider at the bottom than at the top) trimming the
butt of the sapling to fit loosely, driving in a wedge,
,Aidthen twisting.
A withe is quickly fastened in place by drawing:
BARK UTENSILS 269
the t\vo ends tightly together, twisting them on each

other into a knot, and shoving them under, as a farm-
er binds a sheaf of grain.
—
Hoops and Splits. The best hoops are made
from hickory, white or black ash, birch, alder, arbor-
vitae or other cedar, dogwood, and various oaks.
Take sprouts or seedlings and split down the middle,
leaving the outer side round. Thin the ends a
little, and cut notches as in Fig. 97. An inside
Fig. 97. — Becketing hoops
hoop, or any that is not subjected to much strain,

is simply notched for a short overlap, as in the
upper illustration; the ends are brought together,
one on top of the other, and bound at a and b. A
hoop to be driven on the outside of a keg or barrel
has a long joint (lower figure) ; each end takes
a half turn round the other, between notches, and
the joint is then tied.
basket-making and similar purposes are
Splits for
commonly made of white oak, in spring or summer,
when the sap is up. Select a straight-grained sap-
ling, cut in lengths wanted, rive these into strips as
wide as desired, then, with a knife, split these strips
bastard {i.e.^ along the rings of growth) to the
proper thickness. Put them in water to soak until
needed, if you want them pliable.
made from slippery elm, for in-
Splits are easily
stance, by taking saplings or limbs three or four
inches in diameter, and hammering them with a
wooden mallet until the individual layers of wood
are detached from those underneath, then cutting
these into thin narrow strips. The strips are
kept In coils until wanted for use, and then are
soaked.
Black ash and basket oak, when green, separate
easily into thin sheets or ribbons along the line of
each annual ring of growth, when beaten with mal-
lets. The Indians, in making split baskets, cut the
wood into sticks as wide along the rings as the
splits are to be, and perhaps two inches thick. These
are then bent sharply in the plane of the radius
of the rings, when they part into thin strips, nearly
or quite a/5 many of them as there are rings of
growth.
CHAPTER XVI
KNOTS, HITCHES, AND LASHINGS
Much depends on knowing how to tie just the
right knot or other fastening for a certain job.
In learning to tie knots, do not use small twine,
but rope or cord at least an eight of an inch thick.
Take plenty of it in hand, and do not begin too
near the end.
The main part of a rope is called the "standing
part" (Fig. 98). When the end is bent back to-
ward the standing part, the loop thus formed is
called a "bight," regardless of whether it crosses
the rope, as in the illustration, or only lies parallel
with it.
For the sake of clearness, in the accompanying

illustrations,ends are shown pointed like thongs,
and standing parts are left open to indicate that they
extend indefinitely. Parts of the knots are shaded
to show plainly how the convolutions are formed.
Stopper Knots. —A plain knot tied anywhere
on a rope to keep it from slipping beyond that point
through a bight, sheave, ring, or other hole, is called
a stopper knot. Such a knot often is used, too, at
the end of a rope to keep the strands from unlaying.
—
Overhand Knot (Fig. 99). Simplest of all
knots. Often used as component part of other
knots. Jams hard when under strain, and is hard
to untie.
Double Overhand Knot (Fig. 100). — If the
end is passed through the bight two or more times
before hauling taut, a larger knot is made than
the simple overhand.
FiGURE-OF-ElGHT KnOT (Fig. lOl). ÂlsG
271
End
9S.Parts of Rope. 99. Overhand Knot
loos*
tauX
loose 7/=:=^
fC9. Double Overhand Knot. ioi. Figure - of- eigh t Kno t.
loose
f02.. TPiiefKnot J03. Granny IKnoi

(will slip). (win slip)
taut
/O^. Reef Knot (holds, does noija.tnj easij to imiie).
fCS.Weavcr'j Knot. /C6. Double Bend. /iJ/.CarricH Bend.
/ootTe
iau.1
/Off. Lapped Overhccnd Knot
* *-
iOf Water Knot. //<?, Double Water Knot

KNOTS, HITCHES, LASHINGS 273
called Flemish, or German knot. Used for the same

purposes as the overhand knot, but more elegant
and easier to untie. (See also p. 319.)
—
Knots for Joining Ropes^ etc. First are given
illustrations of two knots that never are to be used,
because both are treacherous. The thief knot (Fig.
102), with ends pointing in opposite directions, is
sure to slip. It is a bungled weaver's knot (com-
pare Fig. 105).
The granny or lubber's knot (Fig 103) is formed
by passing the end a in Fig. 104 over instead of
under the end b, and then bending b down under
it. The result is that the loops cross over and
under on opposite same way on
sides, instead of the
both sides. Such a knot,when drawn taut, has its
ends sticking out and away from the standing part,
and it is very likely to slip.
—
Reef Knot (Fig. 104). Known also as square
or true knot. Will not slip, unless used in tying a
small cord or rope to a thicker one. So long as the
two ends are of equal diameter this knot may be
relied upon. It has the advantage of being easy to
untie. To make it, cross the two ends, a under b^
turn a over and under b, bring the two ends up
away from you, cross a under b, turn b under a,
and draw taut by pulling the ends.
To untie, if the rope or cord is stiff enough, seize
the standing part on each side, just outside the knot,
push the hands together, and the loops slip over one-
another. If the material is limber, take one end in
left hand and the standing part of the same end
in the other, pull hard on both, and the knot be-
comes dislocated so that it is easily undone.
Surgeon's Knot. —This is the same as a reef
knot except that, in making it, the end a is turned
twice around the standing part of b before proceed'
ing with the loop, just as in the double overhand
knot (Fig. 100). It is used by surgeons in draw-
ing tissue together, to prevent slipping of the first
turn of the knot (see Fig. 193).
Weaver's Knot 105).
(Fig. Often called—
thumb knot, or, by becket bend or hitch,
sailors,
single or common bend. Almost the only knot by
which two ropes of greatly differing sizes can be
joined firmly together; also the quickest and most
secure of all knots for joining threads or twine.
Weavers tie it so deftly that the eye cannot follow
their movements. To tie it as they do : ( i ) Cross
the ends of two pieces of thread, the right one un-
derneath the and hold them with thumb and
left,
finger where theycross; (2) with the other hand
bring the standing part of right thread up over left
thumb, down around its own end (which is pro-
jecting to the left), back in between the two ends,
on top of the cross, and hold it there with left
thumb; (3) slip the loop that is around thumb for-
ward over end of left thread (which is projecting
forward in line with thumb) (4) draw taut by
;
drawing on both standing parts. The knack is in

the third operation, which is done by raising knuckle
of left thumb so that loop will slide forward, at the
same time pushing end of left thread under it with
right thumb (the two thumbs pointing straight
toward each other). This can only be done with
thread or soft twine.
This knot never slips, when properly made, but
when ropes or cords of different thicknesses are
joined with it, make the eye on the stouterj as shown
in the figure. The weaver's knot is used in making
nets, and has a great variety of other applications.
When tied to a loop already made, such as the clew
of a sail or a loop on a gut leader, the end is passed
up through the loop, round the back of it, and un-
der its own part.
Double Bend 106) or Sheet Bend.

(Fig. —
Same as above, except that the end is passed twice
around the back of the loop before putting it undei
itsown part. This gives it additional security
when one line is thicker than the other. Often
ttsed by fishermen in bending a line on the loop of

a gut leader.
Carrick Bend (Fig. 107). — Used for joining
cow ropes together. Holds well, but is easily un-
done by pushing the loops inward toward each other.
Lay the end of one rope a over the standing part b;
put the end of another rope under the bight, over
the other behind a, under the other at bj over at c,
under its own part, out over the bight, and haul
taut. Best of all knots for joining stiff ropes.
Lapped Overhand Knot (Fig. 108) or Open-
—
hand Knot. A quick way of joining two lines or
strands of gut together, and so used by fishermen
to mend a broken cast when in a hurry, although
it is not absolutely secure. Lay the two ends to-
gether and past each other about three inches; give
these a turn over the right forefinger to form a
loop ; slip this off, and pass the two ends to the
left through the loop and draw tight, snipping off
the short end close to the knot. Rather clumsy,
and more likely to break at the knot than elsewhere.
By passing the ends twice through the loop,
as in Fig. 100, a very strong but bulky knot is
formed.
Water Knot (Fig. 109) or Fisherman's
Knot. A — favorite knot for uniting strands of gut,
in making leaders. (The strands should first be
soaked several hours in tepid, soft water to make
them soft and pliable.) Make a small overhand knot
close to the end of one strand^ a. Through this
thrust the butt of another strand, and, close to the
end of it, tie a similar knot around the first strand,
b. Draw both of these knots pretty tight, and
then pull them together by drawing on the two
long ends. Tighten the two knots as much as
possible, draw them together until they bed them-
selves in one knot, and snip off the protruding ends.
The water knot mav be drawn apart by pullmg on
the ends c and d. This is an easy way to insert a
dropper fly at any joint, as in Fig. 171,
r.76 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
!: taut
III Leader Knot,
112. Half Hitch. *V/3. Two Half Hitches i/Jf.Multtpk Hitcftr
"' « tll.Blackvmll
115. Rolling Hitch. t/6. Fisherman's Bend. flitch.
I si tnove
"
3d. mot^*
2*1 metre
II f. Clove Hitch, over post.

beginning
over\\hcmd,
119. Clove Hitch. iStP. Clove Hitch&Half Hitch. IZf Magnus HCicb*
.
/2Z. Cieat Tie . 123. Timber Hitch. i2^. Killick Hitch.
/2S Ring Hitch.

a(n) m)b
/26, Lark's Head. J27. Catspaw.

;

For
thin gut, especially, the double water knot
(Fig. no)
is preferable, as it is stronger and les?
apt to pull out. It is made like the other, except

that the short end is passed twice round the other
long part, instead of once, and then through both
loops thus formed.
—
Leader Knot (Fig. in). In this knot, the
ends, when snipped off close, are firmly held in the
middle and guarded on each side by two round turns
cf gut; consequently the leader slips smoothly over
or through obstacles. To make it, overlap the ends
of the gut, as in Fig. 108, turn one end twice
around the other and slip it bet^veen the two strands
then, gripping between thumb and finger at a, re-
verse the ends and tvvist the second part in the same
way; shove and humor the knot taut, in direction
shown by the arrows, and cut the ends off close.
Hitches. —A hitch is a twist, or combination of
t^vists, to secure a rope or other line.
—
Half Hitch (Fig. 112). Simply a turning in
of the end of a rope.
Two Half Hitches (Fig. 113). —Another turn
in the rope forms two half hitches, which, when
drawn together, hold securely. This is the quickest
and simplest way to make a rope fast to a post or
ring. When subjected to heavy strain it is apt to
jam so tight as to be hard to undo.
Multiple Hitches (Fig. 1 14) .
—Three or more
half hitches bind so tightly on a pole that it can
be hung with a heavy weight on the lower
vertically
end. Also used as an easy and pretty way of "serv-
ing" rope, and for covering bottles, jugs, etc., to
pieserve them from breaking.
—
Rolling Hitch (Fig. 115). ^The quickest way
to make a rope fast when it is under strain, and
without letting up the strain in the act of securing
It. Take two or three turns around the stake,
pole or ring, then make two half hitches round the
standing part, and haul taut. There are other and
rxiore elaborate rolling hitches, This one is often
called a "round turn and two half hitches," or simply
a "sailor's knot." It is one of the most useful and
easily made knots known.
Fisherman's Bend (Fig. ii6) or Anchor
—
Bend. ^Take two turns round the object, as above,
then make two half hitches, the first of which is
slipped under both turns. A
very secure fastening,
but can only be made on a slack line. Chiefly used for
bending a rope to a ring or to the shackle of an
diurhor, or for attaching a line to the bail of a
bucket.
Blackwall Hitch (Fig. 117). — Simplest of all
hitches. Used end of a rope to a hook,
to attach the
where the strain is steady. The strain on the first
turn jams the end between it and the hook.
—
Clove Hitch (Figs. 1 18-120). ^This is one of
the simplest and yet most useful fastenings ever
invented. It can be made under strain, will not
slip on itself nor along the pole, and can easily be
cast loose. It has numberless applications, from
mooring vessels to setting up staging or reducing a
dislocated thumb. Every woodsman should learn
to make it in various positions.
To make it on a post, hold the rope in the left
hand, give it a t^vist toward you with the right,
and it automatically forms a (Fig. 118, a);
loop
hold this with the finger and thumb, give another
twist in the same direction, and a second loop is
formed {b) now, for the next move, bring b un-
\
der a, as in the middle figure, slip them both over

the post, shove them tight together, and haul taut.
In this way a boat is moored, or a rope fastened
to a tent pin, almost as quick as you would bat an
eye.
Next learn to make
the clove hitch on a long pole
or other object that the loops cannot slip over: for
instance, a horizontal rail. With rope coming from
behind, pass the end forward over the rail, down
and around it, back over the rope, up and over
as in Fi^. 119, and then bring the end out through
the opening c.
Then tie It In reverse position, end pointing to-
ward you. Observe
that, in any case, the end goes
round the pole the second time always in the same
direction as the first, and that the end and the
standing part comes out on opposite sides.
Absolutely to prevent slipping, take a half hitch
around the standing part (Fig. 120).
All of these Illustrations show the hitch before
being drawn taut, which is in the direction of the
arrows.
Aclove hitch may be used to secure a small line
to a stout rope. Since this hitch It not apt to slip
along a smooth timber, it is used by builders in fit-
ting up scaffolding. Its advantage in setting a
dislocated limb is that, while it cannot slip, yet no
amount of pulling will tighten It so as to stop
the current of blood.
Magnus Hitch (Fig. 121). Ânother easily —
made hitch that will not slip along a pole. It
can be made with a line that Is under strain.
Cleat Tie (Fig. 122). —A
quick fastening for a
rope that Is under strain. Never use It to make
fast the mainsheet of a sailboat (see Slippery
Hitch^ Fig. 138).
Timber Hitch (Fig. 123). —
For dragging logs
over the ground, or towing them through the water,
the timber hitch has even greater gripping power
than any of those hitherto mentioned. It cannot
be made while there Is a strain on the rope.
Pass the end of the rope around the timber,
then round the standing part, then twist it two
or more turns under and over Itself. The pres-
sure of the coils gives remarkable holding power.
A timber hitch can be cast off easily. It Is not
reliable with new rope, and Is liable to come adrift
If the strain Is Intermittent.
KiLLiCK Hitch (Fig. 124). — To secure a stone
for a boat anchor, or for lifting similar obiects,
make a timber hitch, haul taut, and then make a
single half hitch alongside It.
t28 Laiigo Las /29 Openhand 130. Midshipman's

Eye Knot ^ Hitc%
131 Bowline Knot. f32.Fishermat{s m. Loop Knot

Sye Knot
taut
13^ Central DraughVipop. /3S. Slip Knot.
/36. D ran Knot. /32. True

Bow Kno t. 138. Slippery
"rrcA.
/jff. Slippery Clove Hitch.

-KNOTS, HITCHES, LASHINGS 281
ror towing slimy and slippery logs the same

method is used, except that the half hitch is made u
couple of feet in front of the other instead of along
side.
Ring Hitch (Fig. 125). —^When
tying a lim
or gut to a swivel ring, and for various other pur-
poses, we want to secure attachment that is not
clumsy and will not part at the knot. In the ring
hitch the end fastening has no tendency to cut the
line, and the draught is direct. If used in tying
gut to a swivel, pass ittwice around the swivel ring
as shown in "first move" ; pass the end over to the
far side, and bring it through the double loop to-
ward you at a; pass it over again and bring it
through as before, but toward the swivel. See that
these two turns are not too loose, and pull tight on
the standing part first w^hile still keeping a good
strain on the standing part. With tweezers tighten
the short end, then snip it off close. Cover the knot
with a good blob of celluloid varnish (old photo films
soaked in hot water, scrubbed with a stifif nail brush
on exposed side, cut in pieces, and dissolved in
acetone).
Lark^s Head (Fig. 126). —A bight of the rope is
passed through the ring, and the ends are then
drawn through the bight. To make this tie mor^
secure a half hitch (a) may be added.
—
Catspaw (Fig. 127). This is for hitching a
rope on to the hook of a block for hoisting. The
simplest form is here shown. First you make two
bights in a rope, then, with a bight in each hand,
take two or three twists from you; bring the two
bights side by side, and throw their loops {a, b) ovei
the hook (c).
Latigo Lash (Fig. 128). —Used in cinching a
saddle, the latigo being the strap by which the girth
is lashed to a ring at the other end of the girth.
Pass the latigo through the ring from outside to

inside; down to ring that hold? latigo itself, and
through that from inside to outside, and up through
;
282 CAMPING AxND WOODCRAFT
upper ring from outside, passing under and out at
the right {a). Then bring strap forward horizon-
tally to the left; pass it around back of ring {b) and
then out through ring to the front, as in first il-
lustration. Now pass end of latigo down through
the horizontal loop (c). Cinch and pull tight, as in
second illustration.
—
Loop Knots. These are for forming eyes that
will not slip, in the end of a rope or other line, or
to make secure fastenings for various purposes.
Openhand Eye Knot (Fig. 129). —Lay the
end back along the standing part far enough to
make an overhand knot with the doubled line,
lea^'ing a loop projecting. Very easy to make, and
will not slip, but it does not give a direct pull, and
one strand is likely to cut the other; hence a poor
way to make, for instance, a loop at the end of a gut
leader.
MiDSHiPMAN^s Hitch (Fig. 130). Practically —
a loop secured by a magnus hitch. The strain Is
direct, and the knot easy to make and undo. Often
used for attaching a tail-block to a rope.
—
Bowline Knot (Fig. 131). Pronounced bo-
lln. Most important of all loop knots, as it is per-
fectly dependable, cannot slip, cannot jam, and is
easily cast loose. It has Innumerable uses.
Form a small bight (a) on the standing part,
leaving the end long enough for the loop, and bring
the end down through the bight pass the end under
;
and around the standing part, back over and then

under the bight {b) ] draw loop snug, and pull on
standing part to haul taut.
It is Immaterial whether the bight Is made to
left, as here shown, or to right, provided the end
is properly passed. Learn to tie the bowline both
overhand and underhand, with loop toward you and
with it away from you.
A quick way bowline around a post, or
to tie a
through a ring. Is to pass the end of the rope round
the post, then take the standing part of the rope In
your left hand, the post being next to you, and the
end of the rope in your right hand lay the end ;
over the standing part and make an overhand knot

as if you were going to make a reef knot; then by
a tvvist, capsize the knot so that it becomes a half
hitch in the standing part. Now pass the end
behind and around the standing part, away from
the post, and back down through the same half-
hitch. Then pull tight.
FiSHERMAN^s Eye Knot (Fig. 1 32). —A bight
is made, and an overhand knot is tied with
first
the standing part around the other as in Fig. 135;
the end is now passed round the standing part, and
knotted in the same way. Thus there is a run-
ning knot a followed by a check knot h, which,
when the loop is hauled on, jam tight against one
another. The strain is divided equally between the
two knots, and the loop will stand until the line
parts. This is one of the best ways to make an
eye on a fishing line or gut.
Loop Knot (Fig. 133). —Shown in the illus-
tration formed before drawing taut, which is
as
done by pulling on the end with one hand and on
left-hand side of loop with the other. Jams fast,
but is not so strong as 131, 132, or 134.
Central Draught Loop (Fig. 134). Another —
excellent loop for lines or gut, as it will not give
nor cut itself. Make
the bight a, then h over it,
and pass the end d under the standing part; then
thread d through the opening c, over the standing
part, and out between the bights a and h. Now
draw the bight h under and through the bight a,
in the direction of the arrow. Haul taut by pull-
ing on e and d.
Slip Knots. —A
plain slip knot or running knot
is made by first forming a bight and then tying a
common overhand knot with the end around the
standing part (Fig. 135). It is a common knot
for forming a noose, but inferior to the running
bowline (Fig. 140).
iÔ,R"^nnTng /^/.Running Noose /*f2.LarkBoai t^3, Sheet BenA

bowline. wt'tkSfoppen Knot. withTogglt.
/^^. Hiichln;^ Tie.
/4/S. //I'tchin^Tie. /4S. Sheepshank.
1^7. Bowline on i^8. Man Sling. t^9. Boatswain's /SO. PlankSU'nq.

a Bight Chair. cMariinsptkeHim)
^
b c
'Sr Bale Hitch. (S:i. PackSlin^ /S3. Harness f^Hch.

—
Draw Knot (Fig. 136).—This is tied just like
a reef knot, except that after crossing the ends at
a the right-hand end is bent back on itself to form
a loop (Z>) ; then pass the left-hand end (c) over
the loop, draw it back down under it, and out over
at d. Remember the sequence: over, under, over
— to reverse it would produce a granny knot.
True Bow Knot (Fig. 137).—This is the same
as the preceding save that both ends arc doubled back,
and the loop e i? drawn down under and out over,
in the direction of the arrow. This is the way to
fasten your shoe laces securely.
Slippery Hitch (Fig. 138). ^This is a very
—
•common temporary fastening in tying up packages,
fastening the painter of a boat to the ring of a pier,
etc. Apull at the free end casts off the rope at
once. Liable to come undone by accident.
Slippery Clove Hitch (Fig. 139). Â very —
useful hitch for fishermen and others, as it can
be employed on a ring, eye knot, plain rope or line,
or a pole or post. A
ring is here used for illus-
tration. Pass end of line up through the ring, down
over it and behind the standing part of line, up
over ring again (to the right) leaving an open
loop at a; bend the end into a bight h, pass it back
through loop a, and draw taut. It holds against
direct strain as firmly as a clove hitch, but is freed
instantly by a tug at the free end.
Running Bowline (Fig. 140). —
This is merely
a bowline with the main rope passed back through
the large loop above h in Fig. 131. This forms a
slip knot, its superiority to Fig. 135 being that its
small loop cannot bind nor jam.
Two ropes may be joined together by making a
bowline in the end of one and putting the end of
the other through the bight, then forming with it
—
another bowline on its own part a method often
used with heavy ropes or hawsers.
Running Noose with Stopper (Fio:. 141).
A simple wav of picketing a horse with a lariat,
though the bowline is better. The noose is made
cf right size and the over-
for the horse's neck,
hand knot at the end prevents it from drawing
tighter. This loop may also be used at the end
oi a bowstring.
Lark Boat Knot (Fig. 142). Â means of —
mooring a boat whereby the painter can be cast ofi
instantly. A bight of the rope is put through the
ring and a stick is thrust through in the manner
shown. When the stick is pulled out the painter
comes adrift of its own accord.
Sheet Bend with Toggle (Fig. 143). -Two —
ropes are joined together by a sheet bend (weaver's
knot, Fig. 105), but, instead of drawing them taut
against each other, a stick (toggle) is inserted for the
same purpose as in a lark boat knot.
Hitching Tie (Fig.
144). —
Commonly used
in hitching a horse. Pass the halter strap or rope
around the post from left to right; bring it to-
gether and hold in the left hand at a. With right
hand throw the end across, in front of the left
hand, thus forming the loop b. Now reach with
the right hand in through this loop, grasp the part
of strap hanging straight down on the far side, and
pull enough of it through b to form a bight cd. and
slip end through cd. Then draw taut, with the
knot turned to the ri^ht of the post. If the knot
were turned to the left, or drawn directly in front
of the post, it would not pull tight and would
slide down a smooth post.
Another hitching tie is shown in Fig. 145.
Shortening Ropes. — If a rope is too long for its
purpose there are many ways of shortening it for

the time being without cutting. show only one,
I
a form of sheepshank (Fig.
146) which has two
advantages: first, it can be used even where both
ends of the rope are fast; second, it is secure by
itself, without seizing (whipping the tvvine). Make
a simple running knot, push a bend of the rope
through this loop, and draw the loop tight. The
other end of the bend is fastened in a similar man-
ner.
Slings. —^These are used for a great variety of
purposes. They must be absolutely secure, and yet,
in many cases, they must be easy to undo.
—
Bowline on a Bight (Fig. 147). This is made
like the common bowline except that the end is left
long enough so that after it has passed out through
the bight at b in Fig. 131 it is continued around
the big loop and back around and out through
b again, so as to double its course. When this is
drawn taut you have two one as in
loops, instead of
the single bowline, and, like they cannot slip.
it,
This is the sling for hoisting a man, or lowering

him down a shaft, over a cliff, or out of a burning
building. For this purpose, make one of the loops
longer than the other, for him to sit in, while the
shorter loop passes under his armpits and across his
back, as in Fig. 148. The man grasps the ropes
of the long loop, and is safely supported.
The bowline on a bight is also used in slinging
casks or barrels, bales, etc. To untie it, draw
the bight of the rope up on the standing parts
until it is slack enough, then bring the whole of the
other parts of the knot up through it.
Boatswain's Chair (Fig. 149). Â comfort- —
able seat for painters or others working on the
side of a building or for similar purposes. The rope
goes through auger holes in the board and is se-
cured above by a bowline knot.
—
Plank Sling (Fig. 150). Each end of a plank
xised as a stage is fastened to a rope by making a
marlinspike hitch in the rope and running the end
of the plank through it in the same way as the
marlinspike in the lower figure.
—
Bale Hitch (Fig. 151). Bend the middle of
the rope over the back of the package as indicated
by the dotted lines, bring the ends up over the
,ifront of it at a, and out under the bend, using the
two long ends to hoist or lower by. A parcel can
be carried easily by using a short rope in this way
and knotting the ends together for a handle, form-
ing an extemporized shawl-strap. In portaging,
the two ends are brought forward over the man's
shoulders and held in his hands; the pack can be
diopped instantly if he should slip or stumble.
This hitch is used in another way to attach an ar-
ticle to a line that has both ends fastened, for ex-
ample, a sinker to a fishing line. Gather a loop
in the line and bend it back on itself, Fig. 151^,
slip the sinker through the double loop thus formed,
and tighten by hauling on the two ends.
—
Pack Sling (Fig. 152). Make a loop a in the
middle of a rope, with ends crossed as shown, h, c,
and lay the rope on a log or stump. Place the
folded pack on the rope. Back up to it and pull
the loop a over your head and down under your
chin. Pass the ends b, c, up through the loop, cinch
them tight, and tie each with a slip knot.
Harness Hitch (Fig. 153) or Artillery
—
Knot. Although not a sling, this hitch is intro-
duced here for convenience sake. Enables one to
make a loop quickly in a rope or line, the ends of
which are already engaged. Derives its names from
being the best way to harness men to a rope for
towing boats, dragging guns, etc., where horses can-
not be employed. The loop is thrown over a man's
shoulder so he can exert his full strength. Make a
large loop, laying the right end backward over the
left. Pick up right side of loop and draw it toward
you over the standing part in the position shown in
upper diagram. Place the hand under h and grasp
the rope at a. Draw a right through, as in lower
diagram, and tighten.
Unless care is taken in drawing this knot close
it is apt to turn itself in such manner as to slip,
even though correctly made. It is best to put the

right foot on the right hand part of the rope, or
9 foot on each side, to prevent slipping; then tighten.
Can Sling (Fig. 154) or Butt Sling. To —
improvise a bucket or a paint pot out of a can: pass
the end of the cord under the bottom of the can,
bring the two parts over it and make with them a
loose overhand knot (b) draw the two parts down
;
until they come around the upper edge of the can;

haul taut, and knot them together over the can (a).
To sling a barrel or cask, draw the two parts around
the swell of the cask, near the middle, and leave two
ends free to haul by.
—
Lashings. I have space to show only a few of
the more useful lashings.
Parcel Lashing (Fig. 155). —
Make a bowline
knot in end of rope and run the standing part
through it, thus forming a running bowline. Pass
this loop around one end of the parcel (a) and cinch
up (i.e. J draw taut). Run the line to b^ and there
throw a loop around the other end of the parcel,
crossing the rope as at d (not b). Run the rope
on around to the other side and take a turn around
the cross rope as at b (under, over, over, and under),
cinch and do the same at the other cross rope op-
posite a. Bring the rope around the end to Cj and
there hitch it fast by passing end over the cross
rope above bowline, under the part running length-
wise, over bowline (cinch up), back over and under
itself; then make a similar hitch with it in the re-
verse direction, and, if extra security Is needed,
make a third over the first at b.
This lashing is easy to cinch up, easy to cast
off, and leaves the rope then wîth no knot in it.
—
Packing Hitches. ^The various hitches used
in packing on animals, with aparejo, sawbuck saddle,
riding saddle, or merely with a piece of rope, are so
numerous and require so much description that there
is no room for them in this book. See the excellent
special treatise by Lieut. C. J. Post on Horse Pack-
ing (Outing Pub. Co., New York).
Bottle Cork Tie (Fig. 156). Make a com- —
tt'g./S^, Can 6^171^. Fi^. J5S Parcel L ashing.
Fig. I5G. B oHle Cork Tie. Fi^. i57. Handcuff Knot.
Fig./SS. Ledger Lashing Fig. J&9. Putlog Lashing.
a-,
ti
H Mill
Ftg. 160. Malay/iiich. Flgj6J. Paltnj Hitch.
;i'
'^tg./62 Lever Knot Fig /SJ.NecklaceTie. Fig.l^^.PoieSphce,

mon knot like Fig. 135 (start an overhand knot,

slip
a. 156, but instead of drawing the end b
Fig.
through, leave it inside a^ forming the upper loop
c). Put the lower loop a down over the neck of
the bottle with c over top of cork,draw taut, run
the free ends up over the cork and tie them along-
side of c.
Handcuff Knot (Fig. 157). — Make a slip knot

like the first part of Fig. 156, but return the end
b back through the open knot so as to form a double
loop or bow. Slip these loops over a man's wrists,
draw taut, tie the loose ends firmly around the cen-
tral part with a reef knot and you have him se-
cured in a way that would baffle a "handcuff king."
A prisoner can be secured even with a piece of fish-
line by tying his thumbs together behind his back
with this knot.
Never fasten a prisoner's single wrist to your
own: that would place him on equal terms. If
he protests that the cords hurt him, or feigns sickness,
"
*Svatch wêll lest you cure him too quickly
Ledger Lashing (Fig. 158). —A
scaffold ledger
or other horizontal stick is lashed to a vertical tim-
ber in the way here shown.
—
Putlog Lashing (Fig. 159). Â putlog or other
squared timber may be roped to a horizontal pole
in the manner illustrated.
Malay Hitch (Fig. 160). —This is a quick way
to fasten together wisps of grass, reeds, etc., for
matting, or poles, planks, or other material for sid-
ing of temporary quarters. The w^hole affair can
be shaken apart in a few moments leaving no knots
in the ropes.
—
Paling Hitch (Fig. 161). Used by Indians of
the olden time to set up the framework of their
houses, rawhide ropes being employed, which were
put on wet and shrank very tight in drying. With
ropes or vines, it can be used to secure small poles
between
as palings to horizontal ones posts, in mak-
ing a tight fence around camp.
292 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFr
—
Lever Knot (Fig. 162). To secure large piece§
of timber togethei, or to lash articles fast to logs>
such as a box to a raft: take two or three turns of
rope somewhat loosely round the article and its
support, then insert a stiff stick under the coils (a)
and twist round until all the slack is taken out and
the cordage is taut; the end of the lever is then
jecured with cord (b).
A similar appliance may be used as a vice, or to
get a powerful grip on a smooth round object, such
as a large pipe. The degree of tension is limited
only by the strength of the rope and the length of
the lever.
Necklace Tie (Fig. 163) or Portuguese
Knot. — Used to hold two timbers or hawsers side by
side, and for lashing shear legs. The lashing is passed
round and round the two objects to be joined (a),
only a few turns being taken in the case of shears,
then the lashings are brought round across them-
selves, from opposite directions (b) and tied with
a reef knot.
When employed as a lashing for shear legs (^.^.,
supports for the ridge pole of a tent) the crossing
of the two legs puts a strain on the knot, holding it
in place (c), yet there is enough play for the legs
to be spread as far apart as desired, since the rope
has been wound rather loosely for that purpose.
—
Pole Splice (Fig. 164). If it is desired to set
up a tall pole, and there is no material at hand that
is long enough for the purpose, erect as good a pole
as you can get, lash a shorter one to its lower part

(a), resting on the ground, and, above this, butting
on the top of the short one, lash another pole (b).
Tighten the lashings by driving a wedge into each
(c). The wedges must be rounded on the outer
side to avoid cutting the ropes.
To broken pole or the like, bind on a
splice a
splint and wedge it as above the splice will be more
:
rigid than if screwêd.

—
Winding (Fig. 165). In winding a fishing rod.
A'NOTS, HITCHES, LASHINGS 293
or other round object, we wish to leave no knot
showing at either end. At the beginning, lay the
end of the thread or twine lengthwise of the rod
and take four turns around it {a) in "-he direction
that the end points. Draw taut, anc ût the pro-
jecting end off with a sharp knife. Then con-
tinue 30ur winding almost as fa" as you wish ft
to go. Nowmake a loop of a bit _i waxed thread
(b), lay lengthwise of the rod, as you did a,
it
and wrap several turns over it. To finish this end,

cut off your thread a few inches beyond the last
turn, slip it through the end of the projecting loop
(c), and pull back on b until the end of the thread
has been drawn out at the point where the wrap-
ping started around the loop then snip it off close.
;
During the winding, be careful to keep an even ten-

sion and the turns snug against each other. This is
accomplished by turning the rod itself, instead of
winding the thread round and round. It will help
if you put the right-hand end of the rod against
the far side of some support, so you can draw back

on the thread while turning.
Another way is to wind over a needle, instead
of a loop of thread, and, when you have gone far
enough, pass the free end of your thread through
the needle's eye and draw it back.
Either of these is a better way for lon^ wind-
ings than the common one of laying a loop along
the rod the whole length of the wrapping, as you
did the end a, and drawing it back to finish off, as
the loop gives considerable trouble.
In whipping the end of a rope so that the end
may not unravel, begin the same as above. When
within three or four laps of the finish, make a loop
with the twine or yarn, holding the end firmly down
with the thumb, wind three or four turns around the
loop, then pull it back and cut off the end.
Anglers'* Knots. —I have already described the

best ways of joining lines together (Figs. 108-111)
ârld of making loops on the ends of lines or leaders
^
FijjeS.Rod Winding, Fij^. /66. Loop Bend
Fig.. 167. Eight Bend. . Fig. i68. Jam Hitch . Fig. (69. Doubk Hitch.
Rg.l70.Tiiler Hitch. Fig. J7/. Double Loop. Fig. 172. Loop io Lint.
Fig.173. Loop on Knot Fig. IJH. Half Hitch Jam Knot,
C_J^-s
Fig. /7S. Common Dropper Loop. Fijg. J76> Jam Knot.
Fig. f77' TurUKnat.
^^—^^ C taui
FtgJ7S. Eight Knot. Fig.^79. Reverse Knot. Fig.iSO. Bow Knot.

(Figs. 129-134) Following are special knots for
Joining lines to loops, loops to loops, for making
dropper loops, and for tying on hooks, sinkers, etc.
Loop Bend (Fig. 166). The quickest way to —
attach a line to a leader loop. Knot the end of
the line, pass it through the loop, around the out-
side of it, back under itself, and draw taut, leaving
nothing but the knot projecting. Fairly secure,
compact, and easy to undo. Sometimes called jam
hitch.
Eight Bend 167). Same as above but
(Fig. —
with the line carried back over itself and forward
under the first formed loop. Really a figure-of-
eight knot. More secure than the plain loop bend^
and almost as easy to cast off.
Jam Hitch —A neat
(Fig. 168). and hitch, quite
safe. To shove
loosen it, the loops apart.
Double Hitch 169). — Very
(Fig. and secure,
neat. To push forward on
loosen, line.
Tiller Hitch 170). —A

(Fig. clumsy, but bit
reliable, and easiest of all to cast loose, which is
done by a tug at c/when the line instantly comes
adrift. This can be done in the dark.
Holding the leader loop in left hand, catch the
main line within two inches of the end by the same
finger and thumb, underneath the knot of the leader
loop; pass the line across the loop, fetch the loose
end up over it, and double it into a lopp, which is
now passed into the head of the leader loop, and
all drawn taut.
Another way to make this slip knot is first to
bend the end of the line into the shape shown in
the figure {a^ h, c) ] now pass the leader loop down
through a, raise it over the loop b and drop it down
around to the main line; then draw tight.
it
Double Loop (Fig. 171). —

^The end of a leader
usually is looped, and so is the gut of most flies and
snelled hooks. To
join these, push the loop of the
snell through that of the leader, then the hook
through the loop of its snell, and draw tight.
If there no loop on the fly, the leader may be
Is
made with a loop at each end where the dropper

fly is to be attached, these loops joined as above,
a knot tied in the end of the dropper fly's snell, and
this inserted like a in the figure, before drawing
taut. A looped snell can be used in the same way,
gripped in the joint, just below its knot, and with
its own loop projecting above. This m.akes it easy
to change flies.
Loop to Line (Fig. 172). —Â snelled hook can

be readily attached to a line anywhere except at the
end, by bending the line into a bight, slipping the
loop of the snell over the bight, the hook up through
as shown, and drawing tight. A
dropper fly can
be hitched to a leader that has no loop, in the same
way, but the strain may eventually cut the leader.
—
Loop over Knot (Fig. 173). In a similar way
a looped snell is hitched over a knot in a leader
when the leader has no dropper loop.
A split shot for sinker can be attached to a line
or leader in the same way. Close it on a loop of
thread just large enough for the shot to pass through,
and loop the sinker on the leader just above a knot.
The thread being relatively weak, it will break if
the sinker gets caught, instead of breaking the gutr'
Half Hitch Jam Knot (Fig. 174). To make —
a dropper loop anywhere on a line or leader, this
method may be employed. First make a common
half hitch (/^). Then spread c and d apart and
bring e up between them (i?). Now draw the
ends a and h taut, and a loop is formed (C) which
stands at right angle to the line or leader. If the
dropper loop does not stand straight away from
the leader, like this one, it is likely to cause a fine
snell to foul in casting.
Common Dropper Loop (Fig. 175). —The usual
way of tying a dropper loop is bend the end of
to
one strand back against itself {a) into the form of a
loop, lay it alongside the next strand {h) which runs
iKiward the main Kne, then make a common over-
hand knot at c of them together.
with all Of
course, the gut must be well soaked and soft. Hav-
ing drawn them tight, take the loop a in one hand
and the upper end b in the other, and pull the-m
strongly apart, so that the loop will point outward
nearly at a right angle, instead of lying close along
the line.
With light leaders it make the loop
is better to
of a separate piece of gut, somewhat heavier and
stiffer than the main strands, lay it alongside a com-
plete leader and tie as above. It will stand away at
the proper angle.
Jam Knot (Fig. 176). —^To attach an eyed fly
or hook to gut Push one end of gut through the eye
:
toward bend of hook; bring it back and make with

it a slip knot around the gut, as in the figure, leave
this open so it will pass forward over the eye of

the hook, which is done by pulling at a. Draw
tight, and protruding end.
clip off the
TuRLE Knot (Fig. 177). Pass end of gut —
through eye, and draw hook well up on gut to be
out of the way. Make a running loop {a) with end
of gut; draw the knot {b) nearly tight; pass hook
through the loop thus made, and bring knot to eye
of hook; draw tight by pulling first on c, then on d,
and clip off end. This is particularly a good knot
for e^êd flies.
FiGURE-OF-ElGHT KnOT FOR HoOKS (Fig. 1 78).

— Â secure knot, more easily loosened than the turle
knot.
Reverse Knot 179). Pass end of gut
(Fig. —
through eye of hook, take two turns with it around
the leader, then stick it backward under the turn
nearest the eye, draw taut, and clip off.
Single Bow Knot (Fig. 180). —Sometimes used
for attaching hook to line when it is desired to
change quickly.
CHAPTER XVIT
TROPHIES.— PELTS, BUCKSKIN AND
RAWHIDE
The preparation of game heads, or of entire skins,
for subsequent mounting or tanning is not very dif-
ficult, even for an amateur, if one goes about it in
the right way, A few simple rulesmay be given at
the start:
1. Skin the specimen in such a way that the taxi-
dermist can mount it in lifelike attitude and na-
tural proportions. Make as few incisions as need
be, and these in places where the seams will not
show.
2. Remove every bit of fat, flesh and cartilage
that you can. This is very important, but be care-
ful not to cut through the skin.
3. Dry thoroughly in the shade; not in the sun
nor before a fire.
4. Furred pelts are dried on stretchers, but speci-
mens to be mounted by a taxidermist must not be
stretched at all.
5. Pelts are to be dried without salt or other

preservative, except under conditions mentioned be-
low. Heads are best dried in the same way, un-
the weather
less is damp, or you are collecting in a
warm climate.
Many a fine head has been spoiled by not leav-
ing enough of the neck skin attached to give it a
good poise in mounting. Many more are ruined by
skimped or boggled work about the eyes, lips, and
ears, or by leaving fat on the skin so that it gets
*'grease-burnt," or by rolling up the skin and leav-
ing it in a warm or moist place until decay sets in..
2q8
PELTS, BUCKSKIN, RAWHIDE 299
Remember that the taxidermist or furrier must soak

the skin to soften before he can do anything else
it
with It, and has been allovvêd to decay at all

if it
the hair will come out when soaked.

To make a good job of skinning is somewhat tedi-
ous, and to make buckskin or tan pelts calls for
plenty of elbow-grease. Amateurs are apt to be
taken in by humbugs who profess to teach quick
and easy ways of doing these things. There is no
nostrum nor hocus-pocus that will save you the
trouble of good knife work in the field, or of real
labor if you do your own tanning.
In skinning out heads, or full pelts, one can do
nretty fair work with no other tool than a jackknifft
with TWO blades, one of them thin and pointed, the
other thicker edged for scraping and for working
close to bones. It is best, however, to have two
knives. For making incisions and for skinning out
the more delicate parts a good instrument is the
taxidermist's knife shown In Fig. 181. It has a
Fig. 181. —Taxidermist's knife
thin three-mch blade that takes a keen edge, weighs

but two ounces, and costs 35 cents. Then have at
hand a jackknife or a small hunting knife 'or the
rougher work. You will need a whetstone hs skinr
ning is hard on knife edges. When slitting a skin,
lise point of small blade, edge up, so )ôu do not have
to cut the hair.

When heads are to be skinned for mounting, one
ought to have a pocket tape measure and make notes
of actual dimensions on the animal itself. Since
trappers and hunters of big game are afield only In
cold weather, there is no need of arsenical soap
or other chemical preservatives.
—
Skinning a Head. Begin at a point over the
backbone, close to the shoulder, and run the point
of the small knife, just under the skin, down to the
throat, then down the other side in the same way
{AB in Fig. 182). Make these cuts close to the
body where the swell of the shoulders and brisket
begins, as the skin of the whole neck is needed to
mount the trophy true to life.
JJ^ \\\ Then from C run the knife
ayU ^L straight up the back of the neck
\ ( py
y| /f toD, midway between the ears.
^_^..11J^^^ From D make incisions to EE
\^ '^V^'^^^ ^^ ^he bases of the two antlers.
(If the animal has no antlers
or horns, then the cut from C
to D is sufficient.)
Now begin to peel off the
skin, working first from C down
p- i02 on each side. Pull away the
Skinning a head skin with one hand while you
assist with the knife in the
other, cutting off the little ligaments as you go, so as
to leave no flesh adhering to the skin, taking care
not to cut the skin or rupture blood vessels. This
kind of work is not to be done by a few heavy
strokes, but by many light ones, holding the knife
like a pencil. Peel forward to base of ears, and cut
these off close to the skull. Then take up the V-
shaped point between the ears (D) and skin
off the
scalp. Cut and pry the skin away from the base
of each antler {EE) all around, working carefully
and close to the base so as not to haggle edge of
skin or leave hairs attached to antlers. It will help
here to insert under the skin a small wedge-shaped
stick,and pound a little on it.
Just above each eye is a depression in the skull,
with no flesh between skin and bone, and the skin
adheres tightly. Go slow here, cutting loose the
ikln to the very bottom of the cavities.
PELTS, BUCKSKIN^ RAWHIDE 301
About the eyes you must p^c^

with great care,
for if you cut the eyelids theyj:am(^be repaired so
as not to show the fault. Klijp tjê**biade close to
bony rim of eye socket. Ins^$t,f^n&p1i^to eye as
guide, and cut through the merfik^^W54^the eye
without puncturing the eyeball, '^r^ t^Qorners
of the eyelids from the bone by neafô^^&jk'^^W^the
Pull off the skin as far as the nostrils afid^(^tW^

Here again you must work slowly and Cfja-e^ll^X
Sever the cartilage of the nose well b?ck of the open^
ing so the cut will not show from the front when
head is mounted. When the lips are reached, cut
close to the bone all around.
The skin being free from the skull, now proceed
to remove the cartilagefrom the ears, so the taxi-
dermist can insert metal forms that will preserve
the natural contours. Many leave the cartilage in
place, in ears, nose,and lips; but if this is done the
parts will shrink and shrivel, besides being good
prey for insects. Begin at the base of the back oi
the ear, separate the cartilage as far as you can
with the knife, then start to turn the ear inside out,
peeling as you go. Continue until you reach the
point of the ear. Your wedge-shaped stick will
come handy here. Having finished the back; then
skin down the inside in the same way. Be careful
not to cut the skin at the edge. Thus remove each
cartilage entire.
Then pare away all the cartilage and flesh from
the nose and lips, splitting them open for the pur-
pose, li the head is that of a moose, the cartilage
of its "bell" is to be removed.
Go over the entire skin and make sure that all fat
and flesh have been removed, so it will keep well and
so that when
the taxidermist gets it his preservative
will penetrate the skin evenly at all parts. Then
wash it, and out, thoroughly, in cold or luke-
inside
warm water, to remove blood and dirt. Blood-
stains are hard to remove from any kind of hair or
fur, and on some, as the caribou's, they cause a rust
that cannot be eradicated. Finally, turn the skin
inside out and hang it up in a cool, shady place to
dry, spreading its folds smoothly apart, not
wrinkled, so that air can circulate freely over all
parts. Never roll a fresh hide up, expecting it to
dry that way; it would surely spoil.
A skin dried thus without any preservative at all
will soak up better when the taxidermist gets it
than if it had been salted. If, however, the weather
be damp all the time, you will have to use salt. In

this case rub plenty of fine salt over every inch of
the inner surface of the skin; then roll the skin up
and let it lie until morning; do not stretch it nor
hang it up by the nose. Next morning examine it
carefully for soft spots where the salt has not struck
in; shave these down and rub salt into them. Do
not use any alum, for it would shrink the skin.
Then immediately hang up the skin in a shady
place, well out of reach of dogs and vermin.
Meantime you will have the skull to attend to.
Before removing it, make the following measure-
ments and note them down as a guide to the taxi-
dermist :
1. Length from base of skull to where neck joins

the body.
2. Girth of neck at throat.
3. Girth at center.
4. Girth around AB where neck joined body.
Turn the head to one side and insert the knife
between the base of the skull and the first or atlas
vertebra, severing- the muscles and tendons; then
turn the head in the opposite direction and perform
a similar operation there; give a wrench, and the
skull is detached. Cut and scrape all flesh, etc.,
from the skull.
Disarticulate the lower jaw so that 5'ou can work
better, and- clean it. Remove the tongue and eyes.
Now get a stiff stick, small enough to enter the hole
in the base of the skull, splinter one end by pound-
ing on a rock, and work this end around inside

It
the skull so as to break up and remove the brain,

using water to assist you. Wash out the inside of
the skull, and tie the lower jaw in place.
Hides. —
How to remove and care for the entire
skins of large animals is described In Vol. I., pp.
270-275. If they are to be used in making buckskin

or rawhide, do not salt them.
Skins of bears, cougars, etc., that are to be made
up into rugs may be skinned with either the whole
—
head or only the scalp attached the former if
wanted mostly for decorative purposes, but prac-
tical minded folk prefer the latter, as these are not
so mean to stumble over. If the animal has a large
tail, slit the tail skin on the under side, the
whole length. The tail bone must be removed in
any case.
In skinning a bear slit it along the belly from
chin to tail, and up the inside of each leg from toes
to the belly slit. Skin out each foot by peeling the
skin down and severing each toe just above base
of nail. Skin out the ears like those of a deer, and
the muzzle the same way if the whole head Is to
be preserved. The skin, being very fatty, requires
careful fleshing. As there probably will be no time
for this until the next day, spread the skin out on the
ground, rub salt into It, and roll It up for the night,
flesh side to flesh side. Next morningup a sapling
fix
for a *'beam," as described under the head of Buck-
skin^ throw the skin over It, rub some cornmeal
or ashes on it, and thoroughly scrape off the fat.
Then salt the skin again.
To and dry a skin, set up a rectangular
stretch
frame, well braced, which may be made of saplings
lashed or nailed together. Lace the skin to this
frame, drawing" as taut and evenly all around as
you can (Fig. 183). The best way is with a sack-
ing or sail needle and heavy twine. If. you must
make slits along the edges, from lack of a needle,

cut them as small as practicable. Use a separate
'304 CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
length of twine or thong on each side, so that all
four can be stretched or let out Independently.
This
is far better than to tack the
skin up on a door or
access
the side of a barn, as it gives the air free
to both sides. Set the frame in an airy, shady
place, out of reach of dogs and "varmints."
Another way
to stretch a
slit-open skin
is to lace it up
inside a hoop.
Lay the skin
out flat. Get
a rod of elas-
tic wood long
enough to
bend into a
hoop that wnll
go clear
around the
outside of the
skin, or, if
need be, splice

two or more
rods together
Fii 183. — Bear skin stretched for the pur-
to dry
pose. Tie the
skin to the hoop at opposite sides, then the other
way, and so on until all loose parts are taken up
and the skin Is stretched tight as a drumhead.
The skull of a hornless animal is easily prepared
for cleaning by simmering in water over the fire un-
til the flesh begins to get tender (but beware of
over-boiling, lest the sutures of the skull open and
the teeth come loose) then remove the brain and
;
scrape the skull.

Small Pelts. —Animals
found frozen In the
traps should be thawed out gradually before skin-
—
ning never by direct heat of the fire.
The wolf, coyote, wolverine, raccoon, and badger
are skinned **ODen" and stretched scuare like a beaf
skin. Abeaver skin is slit open from chin to tail,

but the legs are stripped out without slitting so
that the skin may be stretched to oval form.
The lynx, wildcat, fox, otter, fisher, marten, mink,
skunk, muskrat, and oppossum are skinned "cased,"
without slitting the belly. The skin, being now
flesh side out, dried on a stretcher as described
is
hereafter. The reason for "casing" is that the

furrier then can cut the pelt for himself to the
best advantage, matching the best parts with those
fiom other pelts, and making up separately the
thin-furred or off-color parts.
In skinning a small animal "cased" it may be
convenient to hang it up by the hind legs on a
wooden gambrel thrust through the heel tendons, or
on wire gambrel hooks, suspended by a short cord so
that both hands can be used and the animal turned
freely; but this is not necessary: if the beast is large,
as a wolf or lynx, lay it on its back; if small, hold
it on your knees.
Beginning at a hind foot, slit the skin along back
of leg to base of tail, cutting carefully around the
vent; then similarly along the other leg. If the

feet are furred, skin them out with nails attached;
if not, run the knife around the ankles. Peel the
skin from the hind legs.
Tails of muskrat, beaver, and oppossum, being"
worthless, are chopped off where the fur ends, be-
fore skinning; those of other fur bearers are left
on, the bone being completely removed, of course,
or the tail would spoil. Cut a green stick about
an inch thick and seven or eight inches long. Split
it about half its length, work the skin loose from
root of tail with finger and thumb until you can

slip the split stick over the bone, then, pressing the
sides of stick firmly so that the edges cannot slip
over the skin, pull hard with it toward end of tail
while your other hand pulls the body in the op-
posite direction, thus stripping the tail skin off "as
rlick as a whistle."
Make a small Incision through tip of tail, and,
before putting the pelt on a stretcher, run
a switch through the tail sheath to open it up
and allow the air to pass through it. If the tail
sheath were left stuck together it would not cure
properly and the fur would slip. This is the best
way with mink and other animals that have tails
more or less rat-like, and trappers generally prac-
tice it even on fox, raccoon, skunk, etc. but if ;
the animal has a thick, fleshy tail, the skin should

rather be slit its entire length, on the under side,
and spread flat for curing.
Next strip the skin down
over the body. The
front legs are easily worked out with the fingers.
Sever the feet at the ankles, or skin them out with
toes attached, as the case may require. Such skins
as mink, marten, fisher, and fox may be slit up the
back of the front legs to assure proper drying.
Peel the skin down over the head, using the
knife gently. The ears are cut off not too close to
the skull, the membranes cut through at the eyes,
and the muzzle skinned off with lips and bare nose
attached. The cartilage need not be removed, since
the animal Is not to be mounted.
Now go over the flesh side of the whole pelt and
remove all adhering flesh and fat with the knife,
but do not scrape thin at any place. Raccoon,
skunk, and oppossum skins are fatty, like a bear's,
and should be fleshed with particular care.
If the fur is dirty, or has blood spots on it, you
must clean it with water and a rag (soap, too,
if need be). A
wet pelt should be dried by swing-
ing it around In the air, before putting It on the
stretcher.
As weather
furs are of no value until freezing
sets In, there no need to salt the skins or use any
Is
other preservative; just dry them In the shade on

stretchers.
Pelts of skunk, mink, etc., can be deodorized most
effectively by soaking and washing them In gasoline
01 benzine (away from a fire, of course) then ;
wring out, and hang up in a current of air to dry,

before stretching.
A"cased" skin is dried by slipping it over a thin
board of proper shape and size so it is stretched
tight like a drumhead. Stretchers are of various pat-
terns. For muskrat the stretcher need be no more
than a box board about 20 inches long, 5 or 6 inches
wide at the base, and 4 or 5 inches at the shoulder,
from which it is rounded off to the upper
end. Dimensions depend, of course, on
the size of the skin. The sides are cham-
fered so as to be thin along the edges,
which are rounded.
To get the approximate size and shape
for a stretcher, lay the animal on its
back, on a board, and mark around it
near the end of the fur. A fox skin will

require a ^-inch board; otter, ^-inch,
and long enough so its tail can be spread
out flat and tacked at full length. Slip
the skin over the stretcher, fur side in,
back on one side and belly on the other,
and tack at the hind feet, or fasten to
notches cut in edge of board. Then
push in on each side a thin, narrow strip,
or a stick to stretch the skin outward
and let air get in. A
few tacks at the
base will complete the stretching. Then
hang in some cool, dry, airy place until
Fig. 184. Another form of stretcher is shown in
stretch ^'^^'^^^' ^^^ board is shaped as above,

(a, b, then a tapered piece is ripped from the
wedge) center (ab) which, after the skin
,
has been slipped on, is pushed forward like a wedge

to stretch taut.
Bird Skins. —A sportsman may wish to save the
and
skin of a particularly fine bird for mounting,
this can be done, in cool weather, without any
preservatives or taxidermist's equipment at all. You
are likely to have some absorbent cotton or gauze
in jôur first-aid kit. With this, plug the bird's
throat, nostrils, and vent, and wipe off any blood that
may have escaped from shot holes. The feathers
must be disarranged as little as possible, and must
be kept clean.
Lay the bird on its back, head to one side, and
bend the vrings backward out of the way. Part
the feathers from point of breastbone to vent,
and make an incision straight from one point to
the other, being careful not to cut through the
abdominal wall. Lift edge of skin and peel from
body until thigh joint is exposed. Sever leg from
body. Work thigh gradually out of skin, cut tend-
ons free just above knee, and strip all flesh from
bone. Do the same with the other leg. Use cotton
or corn meal if blood or juice starts.
Set bird on end, tail up. Bend tail backward, and
cut through vent lining, tail muscles, and backbone,
being careful not to cut butts of tail feathers, or
through skin of back. Work the skin loose from
back, sides, and breast, to the wings, turning it in-
side out as you go. If the bird is large, you can
work better if you hang it up by a wire hook and
cord, thrusting the hook into pelvis.
Press wings forward strongly to loosen joint
muscles, and detach them at shoulder joints. Peel
skin off the head. Then gently stretch and push
the skin over the swell of skull, inverting it entirely
to the beak, pulling out ear linings and working
with knife to free eyelids without marring them or
puncturing the eyeball. Cut off neck at base of skull,
including enough of skull to leave a hole through
which brain may be scooped out. If the bird's head
is too large to skin in this way, slit the skin from
middle of back of head down nearly half the length

of neck, and, through this Incision, turn and clean
the head.
Now remove eyes, brain, tongue, and jaw muscles.
scrape off whatever fat is on the skin, and return
skull to its natural position inside the skin. Cut
away all meat from leg and wing bones, and from
base of tail, but without loosening tail feathers.
Turn the skin right side out, smooth the plumage,
and fill the cavity loosely wnth cotton.
—
Buckskin. To make good buckskin takes con-
manual labor; otherwise it is not difficult,
siderable
and one can turn out a good article if he follows
closely the directions here given — the regular Indian
way, which I myself have used. Whether you
make your own or not, it is well to know how real
buckskin is made, so you may not be humbugged in-
to buying base imitations.*
Genuine Indian-tanned buckskin is, properly
speaking, not tanned at all. Tanned leather has
undergone a chemical change, from the tannin or
other chemicals used in converting it from the raw
hide to leather. Buckskin, on the contrary, is still
a raw skin that has been made supple and soft by
breaking up the fibers mechanically and has then
merely been treated with brains and smoke to pre-
serve its softness. In color and pliability it is
somewhat like w^hat is called chamois skin, but it is
far stronger and has the singular property that
although it shrinks some after wetting and gets stiff
in drying, it can easily be made soft as ever by
merely rubbing it in the hands.
For some purposes buckskin is superior to any
leather. It was used by our frontiersmen, as well
*"Much 'buckskin' nowadays comes from a sheep's

back. I will give an infallible rule by which to
tell genuine buckskin that comes from a deer's
back. After the skin is tanned by 'any old pro-
cess,' you will observe on the flesh side little veins,
or channels where they once were. They are
spread like the veins on the back of one's hands,
only smaller. Where these are found on a hide
or skin, you may rest assured it is buckskin off
a deer's back."
Furs and Skins.)
—
(Farnham, Home Maniifacture of
3IO CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
as by the Indians, for moccasins, leggings, hunting
shirts,gun covers and numerous other purposes. It
is warmer than cloth, pliable as kid, noiseless against
bushes, proof against thorns, collects no burs, wears

like iron and its soft neutral color renders the
weaier inconspicuous amid any surroundings. When
of good quality it can be washed like a piece of
cloth.
Itsonly fault is that It Is very unpleasant to
wear wet weather; but against this is the con-
in
sideration that buckskin can be prepared in the wild-
erness, with no materials save those furnished on the
spot by the forest, the stream, and the animal it-
self. Not even salt is used in its manufacture.
Neither tannin, nor any substitute for it, has touch-
ed a piece of buckskin; its fibers have been loosened
and rendered permanently soft and flexible, its
pores have been closed up, but there has been little
or no chemical change from the raw state of the
skin and consequently it has no tendency to rot.
—
Indian Tan. Different Indian tribes have dif-
ferent methods of making buckskin, but the es-
sential processes are the same, namely ( i ) soaking,
:
(2) depilating and fleshing, (3) sti etching and

treating with brains, with repeated soaking and dry-
ing, (4) smoking". The skin of a deer, for ex-
ample, is first soaked in water for three to five
days, depending upon temperature. Elk or buffalo
hides are immersed In a lye of wood ashes and
water or rolled up in ashes moistened with warm
water. After soaking, the hide is taken to a grain-
ing log, which is simply a piece of sapling or small
tree about 8 feet long and 6 or 8 inches thick at
the butt. The bark is removed from the thick end
and the other end is stuck under a root or other-
wise fastened In the ground at an angle, leaving the
smooth end about waist high, like a taimer's beam.
—
Or, a short log may be used one that will reach to
a man's chin when stood on end in which case a
;
notch is cut in the butt by which the stick is braced

against the limb of a small tree, with smooth sur-

face facing the operator, and the small end sticking
in the ground about two feet from the tree.
A graining knife is now required. It was former-
ly made of hardwood, of flint, of the sharpened
fib or scapula of an animal, or of the attached bones
of a deer's foreleg with the front end of the ulna
scraped sharp, the latter instrument being used like
a spoke-shave. Sometimes a large, strong mussel
shell was used. A
favorite instrument was an adze
or hoe-shaped tool made from the fork of an elk
antler. After they could get iron, the squaws made
skin-scrapers shaped like a little hoe, the handle be-
ing about a foot long. A
similar tool for scraping
small skins can be bought from dealers in taxi-
dermists' materials. In the backwoods, however,
one must commonly use an extemporized instrument.
The back of a thin butcher knife does well enough,
if filed square across so as to give a scraping edge,
and the point of the blade driven into a stick for a

handle at that end. Or, one can take a large half-
round file or a rasp, grind it to a square edge on
âch side, draw out the point into a tang, fit a short
oval handle crosswise on this end and a common
file handle on the regular tang at the other end. A
skate blade does very well. In fact, almost any-
thing with a scraping rather than a cutting edge
will answer the purpose.
The skin is placed on the graining log with the
neck drawn over the upper end of the log about
six or eight inches; the operator places a flat stick
between the neck and his body, to prevent slipping,
and presses his weight against it. If the short
notched log is used, the neck is caught bet^veen
the notch and the limb. The hair and grain (black
epidermis) are scraped off by working the knife
down the skin the way the hair runs. If the hair
is stubborn, a little ashes rubbed into such spots
will offer resistance to the knife and will make the

grain slip.
a
312 CAMPING AND WOODCRAf'T

The hide now
turned over and fleshed with a
is
sharp knife, by removing all superfluous tissue and

working the skin down to an even thickness through-
out. This operation must be performed with ex-
treme care or the buckskin will have thick and stiff
spotsi which make it comparatively worthless —
point to be considered in buying buckskin. In
olden times, when a squaw wanted to make some-
thing particularly nice, she would patiently work
down a deerskin until it was almost as thin and
pliable as a piece of cotton cloth. After cleaning
in this manner the skin is allowed to dry and then
is re-soaked overnight.
Softening the Skin. — Now comes the job of
stretching and softening the hide. There is only
one recipe for this: elbow-grease and plenty of it.
The skin is pulled, twisted, and worked in every
direction until it becomes white and soft, after
which the operator rubs into it the brains of the
animal, which have been removed by splitting the
skull lengthwise half in two. Sometimes the brains
are first dissolved in tepid water, being allowed to
simmer over a slow fire while the lumps are rolled
between the fingers they form a paste which
till
will dissolve more

This solution is then
freely.
rubbed into the hide on the hair side, which is
coarser than the flesh side. The brains act as a
sort of dubbing; if there is not likely to be enough
for the job, the macerated liver of the animal is
added to the brains. Deer brains may be pre-
served by mixing them with moss so as to make the
mass adhere enough to be formed into a cake which
is hung by the fire to dry. Such a Cc^ke will keep
for years. When wanted for dressing a hide, it
is dissolved in hot water and the moss is removed.
A skin may
be treated by soaking it in the solu-
tion, wringing out, drying and re-soaking till it is
thoroughly penetrated. After this process the skin
must again be pulled, stretched, kneaded, and rub-
bed, until the fiber is thoroughly loosened and
•
every part becomes as pliable as chamois skin. If

two men are available they saw the hide back and
forth over the sharpened edge of a plank or over a
taut rope, lariat, or a twîsted sinew as thick as one's
finger. Large and refractory hides may be softened
by stretching them firmly on elevated frames and
dancing on them. It is a hard job for one man
to soften a large hide, but he can accomplish it
by throwing the wet skin over a convenient limb,
forming a loop at the other end, passing a stout
stick through it, and t^visting into a hard knot —
leaving it to dry; then he re-soaks it and repeats
the operation as often as necessary. The oftener
a skin is wet and softened, the more pliable it
becomes.
—
Smoking the Skin. ^The final process is smoking,
which closes the pores, toughens the skin, gives
it the desired color, and insures its drying soft after
a wetting. Ordinarily the skin is made its own

smoke-house. A small hole is dug in the ground
and a smudge started in it. The best smudge is
made from "dozed" wood, that is, from, wôod af-
fected with dry rot until it is spongy; this, when
dried, gives out a pale blue smoke without flame.
If a particular shade of yellow or brown is desired,
some discrimmation must be used in selecting the
fuel. Above all things, the smudge must not be al-
lowêd break out in flame, for heating would
to
ruin the skin. Several small poles are stuck around
the hole and the skin is wrapped around them
somewhat like a teepee cover, the edges being sewed
or skewered together; it is best, w^hen practicable,
to smoke two or more skins at once, so as to have
plent}' of room around and above the smudge. When
two skins of about equal size are ready, a good
way smoke them is to baste their edges together
to
loosely in the form of a bag, the outside of the
skins forming the inside of the bag and the after
part of the skins forming its bottom, the neck end
being left open to the edges of the open end sew
;
a cloth continuation, leaving it open. Suspend this
bag from its bottom to a tree or pole. Bend a small
green stick into a hoop and place it within the bot-
tom of the bag; under the mouth of the bag place
a pan containing the smouldering wood (the cloth
mouth is to prevent the skin from heating). In-
spect the inside of the skins from time to time and
when they are smoked to a deep yellow or light
brown the process is finished sometimes both sides
;
of the skins are smoked otherwise, fold the skins

;
with the smoked side within and lay them away

for a few days to season. This sets the color, mak-
ing it permanent. The skins of antelope or any of
the deer tribe are treated in the same way. Ante-
lope, deer, moose, and caribou hides make good
buckskin, but elk hides are comparatively weak
and inferior material.
—
Rawhide. Rawhide is often useful in camp and
is easily prepared. Soak the fresh hide in water,
or in a weak lye made by adding wood ashes to
water, until the hair will slip. The alkali is not
necessary for deerskins. Then remove the hair and
stretch the hide with great force on a frame or on
the side of a building, extending it in all directions
as tightly as possible, so that when it dries it will
be as taut as a drumhead. Dry it in the shade. Use
no salt or other preservative.
This is all, unless you wish to make the rawhide
supple, in which case rub into it thoroughly a mix-
ture of equal parts of neat's foot oil and tallow,
and work it thoroughly over the edge of a plank.
Butter, lard, or any kind of animal grease will do
as a substitute for the above mixture. Viscol,
rubbed in, not only softens but waterproofs the
skin.
A convenient making a stretching frame
way of
in the woods is to go where two trees grow at the
right distance apart; notch them at the proper
height to receive a strong, stiff sapling that has been
cut to fit the notches, the deep cut of the latter
being at the lower side so that no force can pull the

pole down; similarly fit another pole into reversed
Jiotches just above the ground; cut slits in the edges
of the hide and fiom them stretch thongs or very
strong cords to the trees and poles, twisting them up
tightly.
Parfleche. —The plains Indians used to make
rawhide trunks or boxes which would stand any
amount of abuse in packing and travel. These
were called by the voyageurs parfleche. (Our dic-
tionaries surmise that this is a French adaptation of
some Indian word, but it is simply Canadian-French,
meaning an arrow-fender, because it was from raw-
hide that the Indians made their almost impenetrable
shields. The word is commonly pronounced by
Americans with the accent on the last
''par-flesh,"
syllable.) In making these rawhide receptacles the
were dehaired, cut in-
thickest hides of buffalo bulls
to the required shapes and stretched on wooden
forms to dry; they then retained their shapes and
were almost as hard as iron. A hide bucket can be
made by cutting off from the rawhide some thin
strips for lacing, soaking the skin until it is quite
soft, shaping from it a bag, sewing this up with the
lace-leather, to it a handle of twisted or
fitting
plaited hide, then filling the bucket with dry sand
or earth and letting it stand till dry.
Whang Leather. —^Woodchuck skins are prov-
erbially tough, and are good for whangs or shoe-
strings. Squirrel skins can be used for thinner ones.
An old summer coon's skin is very good for this
purpose ; wildcat's skin is better ; eel skins make the
strongest of all whangs.
Whang-leather prepared just like rawhide, but
is
the thongs are cut out before softening. It is coni-

mon practice to tan the leather with alum, but this
is objectionable for reasons given in the next chapter.
Many farmers "tan" small skins for whang-leather

by putting them in a tub of soft soap; or dissolve
9. bar of shaved-up laundry soap in a pail of hot
water, let 't cooL soak the skin in this solution un
til you can squeeze water through it, then wring it
out, work by hand until dry, and finally smoke like
buckskin. But such leather is of inferior strength,
as the alkali weakens the fibers; it remains slippery;
and it draws dampness till it rots. Plain rawhide,
suppled with grease or oil, is stronger than any tan-
ned leather.
Lace-leather cut of uniform width by the fol-
is
lowing means. With a pair of compasses (a forked

stick with pencil or metal scoring point attached to
one leg will serve) draw a circle on a piece of
hide; cut out this round piece with a keen knife;
make a starting cut of the desired width on the
edge of the circular piece of hide. Drive an awl
or a slender round nail into a board, and alongside
of it, at precisely the width of the lace, stick the
knife, edge foremost, and inclining a little to the
rear; then lay the round bit of hide in front of the
knife, draw the cut strip between the awl and the
knife and steadily pull away; the round leather will
revolve as the knife cuts its way, and the awl, acting
as a guage, will insure a uniform width of lacing.
The same method is used in cutting shorter thongs
from the side of a skin or piece of leather.
How to splice thongs is shown in Fig. 185. Cut
a slit in the end of each, a little longer than width
Fig. 185. — Splicing thongs
of thong, slip b over a, bring end of b up through

the slit in a, and draw tight.
A —
RiATA. To make a rawhide riata: select
carefully skinned hides that have no false cuts in
them. A
30-foot riata will require two large cow-
hides if it is to be made three-stranded, or fou
'
small ones If four-stranded. Having removed the

hair, stake the hides out on level ground, keeping
them well stretched and constantly wetted so as
not to harden; keep them pegged out two days.
Cut up the hide In the manner of laces, the width
of the strip not exceeding one-half inch; wet each
strip, when cut, and wrap it around a stick; then
fasten the strips to a tree and plait them to a uni-
form circumference and tightness of twist. Keep
the strands and plaited portion wet; a Mexican
fills his mouth with water which he squirts over
the work and materials. When the rope Is finished,

stretch It thoroughly, and then grease it. To pre-
serve keep It continually greased.
Its pliability,
—
Catgut. The catgut of commerce Is never made
from cats, any more than chamois skin Is made from
chamois; but It can be made from the Intestines of
almost any good-sized animal. Thoroughly cleanse
the intestine from all Impurities, inside and out this ;
is more easily done while the gut is still warm from
the animal. Wash it and then scrape it with a

blunt knife to remove slime and grease; then steep
it in running water for a day or two, so as to loosen
both the Inner and outer membranes, which are

then removed by scraping. To turn the gut Inside
out, double back a few Inches of one end, invert
this, take the bag thus formed between finger and
thumb and dip water up into it till the double fold
is nearly full, when the weight of the water will
cause the gut to become Inverted. The fibrous in-

ner membrane is then soaked three or four hours
in water to which wood ashes have been added. It
is then washed free from lye and can either be split
Into thin fibers when It has dried or may be twisted

Into a bowstring or similar cord. To twist It,
plant two stout stakes In the ground, a little wider
apart than the length of the gut; make a saw-cut
In the top of each stake; cut two narrow, flat
pieces of wood Into the shape of knife-blades, thin

enough to enter the saw-cuts, and notch on'^ end
of each; firmly lash each end of the gut to one of
these notched ends. By alternately twisting these
and fixing them in the saw-cuts, to prevent their
running back, the gut may be evenly and smoothly
twisted like a single-strand cord. Let it dry and
then rub it smooth with a woolen rag and a little
grease.
Membranes. —Bladders only need cleaning, in-
flation with air and drying to preserve them. They
may then be made by oiling. The paunches
pliable
of animals, after cleaning, can be expanded with
grass until dried. Such receptacles have many uses
in wilderness camps, where bottles and cans are
unobtainable; for example, to hold bear's oil, wild
honey, and other fluid or semi-fluid substances.
A
Sinew.— very strong, pliable and durable sew^
;ng thread is made from sinew. It splits into even
threads, is easy to work with when damp, and, on
drying, it shrinks tightly and becomes almost as
hard as horn; hence it is better material than any
vegetable fiber for certain kinds of sewing, partic-
ularly in sewing leather or buckskin, and for bind-
ing together any two parts, such as a tool and its
handle, where the former has no eye. For bow-
strings and heavy sewing, the Indians preferred the
sinews of the buffalo or the moose, and then the
elk, these being coarse in texture; for finer work
they chose those of the deer, antelope, and bighorn.
The sinew of the panther or miountain-lion was
esteemed as the finest and most durable. The liga-
ments that extend from the head backwards along
each side of the spinal process were preferred to
those of the legs.
The aboriginal method of preparing and using
sinew is thus described by Isham G. Allen: "The
sinew is prepared for use by
first removing all ad-
hering with the back of a knife; it is then
flesh
stretched on a board or lodge-pole and left to dry
for an hour or so, preparatory to the separation of
the fibers or threads by twisting in the hands. By
;
the same or similar twisting motion, and by pull-

ing, the fiber can be extended to a reasonable
length. [Dried sinews may readily be shredded by
wetting, and, if necessary, by gentle hammering.]
Cords or small ropes are made by twisting many
fibers together between two forked sticks fastened
in the ground, and, during the process, rubbing
with thin skins of the elk or deer to soften them
the largest cord I have seen made in this manner
was one-fourth of an inch in diameter. To pre-
pare it for sewing, the sinew is wet, and, at the
needle end, rolled on the knee with the palm of
the hand to a fine, hard point, like that of a shoe-
maker's bristle. As suggested, the sinews are made
sufficiently fine for use in fixing the guiding feathers,
and fastening the iron or flint heads of arrows,
and in wrapping of clubs, etc. Formerly the awl
used in sewing was of bone taken from the leg of
the eagle this has been displaced by the common
;
sailor's needle ;the overstitch is that most common-

ly employed in aboriginal sewing."
To join two slippery strands of sinew, lay their
ends side by side, as in Fig. 108, and then with
this double strand tie a figure-of-eight knot (Fig.
loi).
Parchment. — It may sometime happen that one
wishes to prepare a sheet of parchment on which
to write an important document; this can be done
in the wilderness, if one can kill some animal that
has a gall-bladder. Make the parchment like ordi-
nary rawhide, from the thin skin of a medium-sized
animal, say a fawn or a wildcat. Rub it down with
a flat piece of sandstone or pumice-stone. Then get
a smooth, water-worn pebble and with it rub every
part of one surface, (hair side) of the skin, making
it firm and smooth. Then give this a coat of gall
diluted with water.
The old-fashioned way ofmaking ox-gall was as
follows: take the gall of a newly killed ox and after
having allowed it to settle twelve or fifteen hours
in a basin, pour the floating liquor off the sediment
into a small pan or cup, put the latter in a larger
vessel that has a little boiling water in the bottom,
and keep up a boiling heat until the liquor is some-
what thick; then spread this substance on a dish and
place it before a fire till it becomes nearly dry.
In this state it can be kept for years in a pot covered
with paper, without undergoing any alteration. To
use it, dissolve a piece the size of a pea in a table-
spoonful of water. It makes ink or watercolors
spread evenly on parchment, paper, or ivory. A
coating of it sets lead-pencil or crayon marks so that
they cannot be removed. It is also used far taking
out spots of grease or oil.
Translucejit Parchment. — ^To make parchment
translucent, as for a window: take a raw skin, cur-
ried, and dried on a stretcher without any pre-
servative; steep it in an infusion of water, boiled
honey, and the white of eggs.
Another method is to soak a thin skin of parch-
ment in a strong lye of wood ashes, often wringing
it out, until you find that it is partly transparent;
then stretch it on a frame and let it dry. This wilJ

be improved and made rain-proof if, after it is dry,
you coat it on both sides with a clear mastic varnish,
made as directed below.
Unsized paper or a thin skin is made waterproof
and translucent by applying lightly to both sides a
varnish made by putting ^ ounce gum mastic in 6
ounces best spirits of turpentine, and shaking it up
thoroughly, day by day, until dissolved. The bottle
should be kept in a warm place while contents are
dissolving.
Or, use equal parts Canada balsam (fir balsam)
and turpentine: this dries slowly, but is flexible like
map varnish.
Or, dissolve J^ ounce beeswax in J4 pint turpen-
tine.
— :
CHAPTER XVIII
TANNING SKINS— OTHER ANIMAL

PRODUCTS
The methods used by regular tanners In making
leather are complicated and beyond the resources
of men in the woods. Vegetable tanning, with
extracts or infusions of bark, etc., requires weeks or
even months to complete the process. However, thi?
sort of tanning is adapted mainly to heavy hides.
Light skins, such as woodsmen usually handle, are

best made into buckskin or else tanned with mineral
salts or acids, which are comparatively quick and
simple processes.
I will describe a good way to tan a pelt with the
fur on. It may also be used to tan naked leather,
except that the skin, in that case, is first soaked until
the hair will slip and then grained like buck&kin,
before tanning.
Since one seldom makes a good job of tanning at
the first trial, it is best to begin wnth a skin of
little value, and one that is not of a greasy nature
a cat skin, for example, either wild or domestic.
The tanning of a furred pelt proceeds in five stages
soaking, fleshing, pickling, washing, and softening:
I. Soaking. —A skin fresh from the animal needs
no soaking, but one that has been dried must be re-
laxed before r,nything further can be done with it.
Immerse the skin in running water from one to six
hours (depending upon temperature, and thickness
of skin), or, if this is not convenient, soak it in
salted water, using a good handful of salt to the

pailful. Take it out as soon as it is pliable, for
^21
further soaking would loosen the hair or fur. Then
flesh and pickle it at once.
2. Fleshing. —
Even if the inside of a pelt has
been well fleshed immediately after skinning, still,
after it has dried, it will have a tough, glazed sur-
face that must be cut and scraped away, after soak-
ing, to open the pores so that the tanning liquor
can penetrate at every point. Do this on a beam, as
directed under Buckskin in Chapter XVII. Thick
hides must be shaved down uniformly before tan-
ning.
If the skin is will not take the tan.
greasy, It
To remove meal or sawdust,

grease, rub hot corn
over the flesh side, being particular not to get it on
the fur, as it might be hard to remove then scrape ;
well. An easier way is to soak the skin for an

hour in gasoline, then hang up and dry before pickl-
ing.
3. Pickling. —Dissolve
one quart of salt In one
gallon of hot water. Let this cool, and then slow-
ly pour Into It one fluid ounce of commercial sul-
phuric acid. Do not Inhale the fumes. These are
the proportions', the amount, of course, will depend
upon the size of skin and vessel used. The latter
must not be of metal, but glass or earthenware,
or a wooden pail or tub. Soak the skin in this,
turning and working it around, once In a while, to
ensure that every part gets the benefit of the tan-
ning liquor. A
thin skin will be tanned In about
two days; a heavy one may take a week. The
lower the temperature the slower the action. It
will not hurt the pelt to let It stay in the pickle for
months: taxidermists use this formula for preserving
skins to be mounted at any future time. No, It
does not Injure hair or fur, but sets it, and dis-
courages attack by moths and other Insects.
If you are In a hurry, a stronger solution can be
used water two quarts, salt one pound, sulphuric
:
acid one ounce, which will tan a light skin In about

twenty-four hours; but this is Hkely to *'burn" the
TANNING SKINS 323
skin unless you soak it thoroughly In an alkaline
solution after taking It from the pickle.
4. —
Washing. In fact, any skin tanned with an
acid should be neutralized with alkali so that no
free acid is left in it to cause deterioration. First
put the skin on a beam and go over the flesh side
with a scraper to press out all the surplus liquid
that you can. Then soak it an hour or so in a solu-
tion of common washing soda (about a handful to a
pail of lukewarm water). Rinse in clear water.
Many peltshave been spoiled by omitting this part
of the program, and thus the acid tanning has gotten
in some quarters, a bad name.
5. —
Softening. After washing the skin, hang it
spread out on a line or frame until half dry. Then
work it back and forth (flesh side down, of course)
over the edge of a plank or a square bar of iron, and
pull and stretch It in every direction with the hands,
until it is white, dry, and supple all over. The
object is to loosen up the fibers everywhere so that
they do not shrink, stick together, and dry hard and
stiff. An amateur is more likely to fail here than
in any other part of the tanning operation ; for it
is hard work, and he may not stick to it long
enough to ensure a good job.
If still there are hard spots on the skin, moisten
them with the pickling liquor and keep them so until
softened. A good way is to cover such spots with
sawdust wet with all the liquor it will take up.
A final finish can be put on by rubbing with
sandpaper or pumice stone.
Then rub Into the flesh side a mixture of equal
parts of tallow and neat's foot oil, or some butter,
or lard, or vaseline, or (sparingly) with plain oil
or viscol. Do not use a vegetable oil. To remove
any surplus, so that the skin may not be left g/easy,
rub hot corn meal or sawdust over it.
Finally, comb out the fur, and the pelt Is ready
for making up Into a rug or garment.
There are many other ways of "mineral tanning'*
but the one here given is less complicated than most
of them, as satisfactory as any, and is adapted to any
kind of skin, big or little, with or without the bail-
or fur. Tanning with alum I do not recommend:
itshrinks and thickens the skin, hardens it, and
makes the fur dull and harsh if any gets on it.
—
Robes Indian-tanned. One may be so situated
that he can get none of the ingredients required by
the above process, and still he may want to make
a robe with the fur on. In such case, do as the
Indians did, who had not even salt. A
pelt can be
*'Indian-tanned" as soft as by any chemical process,
and will be even stronger and more durable. The
only trouble is that it takes more elbow-grease.
The method is similar to that of making buck-
skin, already described, except that the hide is
fleshed without soaking enough to make the fur slip.
Then the skinis stretched, the brain water rubbed
into the flesh side, this

is repeated several times,
and then the pelt suppled by thorough hand work.

is
One of my earliest recollections is of the cosy

warmth and peculiar but not unpleasant scent of
buffalo robes, as I lay comfortably under them in
the big sled and rode over the shimmering white
prairie in a temperature of twenty or thirty below
zero. The following description of how those
robes were prepared is quoted from Colonel Dodge.
We have no more buffaloes to hunt, but we have
caribou and reindeer, and the same workmanship
can be used on their hides, though a white man
would use a beam and fleshing knife instead of the
ground and a squaw's adze:
"The skin
of even the youngest and fattest cow is,
in its condition, much too thick for use,
natural
being unwieldy and lacking pliability. This thick-
ness must be reduced at least one-half and the skin
at the same time made soft and pliable. When the
stretched skin has become dry and hard from the
action of the sun, the woman goes to »work v.'ith a
small implement shaped somewhat like a carpenter's
adze: it has a short handle of wood or elkhorn, tier!
TANNING SKINS 323
on with rawhide, and is used with one hand. With
this tool the woman chips at the hardened skin,
cutting off a thin shaving at every blow. The skill
in the whole process consists in so directing and
tempering the blows as to cut the skin, yet not cut
to-o deep, and in finally obtaining a uniform thick-
ness and perfectly smooth and even inner surface.
To render the skin soft and pliable the chipping is
stopped every little while and the chipped surface
smeared with brains of buffalo, which are thoroughly
rubbed in with a smooth stone. When very great
care and delicacy are required the skin is stretched
vertically on a frame of poles. It is claimed that
the chipping process can be much more perfectly
performed on a skin stretched in this way than on
one stretched on the uneven and unyielding ground,
but the latter is used for all common robes, because
it is the easiest. When the thinning and softening
process is completed, the robe is taken out of its
frame, trimmed, and sometimes smoked. It is now
ready for use. This is a long and tedious process
and no one but an Indian would go through it."
Sometimes, after the fieshing of the hide was com-
pleted, a mixture of boiled brains, marrow grease,
and pounded roast liver was thickly spread on the
flesh side and allowed to dry in; then the hide was
rubbed with fat, dampened with warm water, rolled
up and laid away for a day. After this the hide
was slowly dried in the sun or very carefully be-
fore a fire, being frequently and thoroughly rubbed
over a îata while drying.
—
Snake Skins. Slit the skin down the center
of the under plates from head to tail. Work care-
fully with a rattlesnake's tail, as the skin from vent
to rattle is thin and easily torn. If the skin cannot
be tanned at once, rub fine salt into the flesh side,
after scraping off foreign matter, roll it up and keep
in a cool place. Otherwise apply the tanning pickle
already mentioned, and tack the skin out on a board,
in the shade, to dry. Afterward it can be softened
with a little oil. For a short time after shedding,
the skin Is thin and tender.
To tan a snake's skin into flexible leather for a
must first be scraped
belt or snnllar article, the scales
:

off then tan, and polish the outer side with a smooth
;
but not hot iron.

—
Fish Skins. If you merely skin a fish, salt the
skin or put it up in brine and ship it to a taxiderm-
ist, you will finally get from him a mounted thing,
but will be a mighty poor reminder of the beauty
it
that you caught. Whoever mounts a fish should

have an exact replica of its body to use as a founda-
tion. This can be made on the spot with plaster
of Paris in a sand mold, as described in Pray's
Taxidermy (Outing Handbooks), provided you
have the plaster. Since very few anglers will be
so equipped, it is best to preserve the fish itself, and
ship it to a taxidermist as soon as practicable. Mr.
Pray has told, in RecreatioUj how to do this with
common preservatives that can be procured in any
village
"To prepare a fish to ship a distance for mounting,^

remove the entrails and red gills, slitting the belly
open along the side to be against the panel when
mounted. When the 'innards' are out, peel up the
skin toward the back carefully and score the meat
deeply lengthwise several times with a sharp knife,
being careful not to cut through the skin on the
opposite side.
Now rub plenty of borax (use no salt on a fish to
be mounted) into the head and belly and the knife
cuts in the meat of the back and tail.
Lastly, put a teaspoonful of carbolic acid (as you
buy it in the drug store) into a pint of water and
wring a cloth out of this solution. Wrap the fish
in this, laid out full length. Have enough cloth so
that several thicknesses of cloth cover the fish. (If
two or more fish are shipped together, wrap each
separately in the damp cloth.) Wrap the whole at
full length in a piece of thin, cheap oil-cloth, pack
carefully in a box and send by either parcel post or
express. (Always lay the fish out in approximate
pose in relation to each other that you would like in
the mount, so that you will open them on opposite
sides, that they may hang front to front on the
panel.)
Always send fish for mounting in the meat, never
skinned, as the ideal mounted fish is a cast portrait
of itself with the skin skilfull}"- applied over it."
TANNING SKINS 327
—
Glue. Hoofs and horns are boiled down in
water for many hours, until the water thickens,
and this is cooled until it sets solid into glue. The
oil skimmed from the pot in making glue is known
as neat's foot oil, valuable in dressing leather.
To use the glue put the pan containing it into a

small pot or pan partly filled with water, and heat
this until the glue melts.
1. Waterproof Glue. — Soak the glue in water
until swollen; then dissolve it by heating in four-
fifths its weight of linseed oil.
2. Add some rosin to hot glue, and afterward
dilute with turpentine.
3. Dissolve one pound of glue in two quarts of
skim milk, by heating.
4. Take a handful of well burned quicklime and
mix with it four ounces of linseed oil, rub the in-
gredients thoroughly together, and then boil until
of the consistency of ordinary paste. Spread it on
tin plates until it becomes dry and very hard. When
required for use, heat it as you would common glue.
This is not only waterproof, but also resists heat, and
can be used as a lute for vessels.
Cements and Pastes. — Although these are
not all animal products, I insert recipes here while
on the subject of adhesives.
5. —
Cement for Broken Vessels. A powerful
cement or lute is made by kneading newly slaked
lime (use a paddle) into a dough-like mass with a.
strong solution of glue, or blood, or white of egg.
6. Cement for Casksj etc. —A good cement for
stopping leaks in casks, boats, etc., is made of tallow
25 parts, lard 40 parts, sifted wood ashes 25 parts.
Mix together by heating, and apply with a knife
blade that has just been heated.
7. —
Flour Paste that ivill Keep. Make a strong
tea of the bark of sassafras root. Mix flour in
cold water to a thick paste, and stir into this the hot
tea, gradually, until the paste is thin as wanted.
8. Mucilage Substitute. — Put a teaspoonful of
;

sugar in barely enough water to dissolve it, and let
it come just to a boil.
Working —
in Horn. Horn is easily manipu^
lated soaking it in boiling water.
after If time
permits, it is best to soak it first for several day?
in cold water, then boil until soft enough to mold
into the desired shape. The horn must be kept
free from anything sweaty or oily while being
treated.
The western Indians used to make superior bows
of buffalo horns, and from those of the mountain
sheep, by leaving the horns in hot springs until they
were perfectly malleable, then straightening them
and cutting them into strips of suitable width. Two
buffalo horns were pieced in the center and riveted
then bound strongly at the splice with sinew.
Turtle or tortoise-shell can be worked up in a
similar way.
Horn is useful for handles, spoons, cups, and vari-
ous other items of backwoods equipment. When
split, flattened, and scraped, it makes good window
panes where glass is unobtainable.

A Horn Cup is better than any other for one to
carry with him when campaigning. It is lighter
Fig. 186. — Horn cup
than a metal cup, does not dent nor break, and is

pleasanter to drink tea or coffee from, as it is less
conductive of heat.
To make it: Select the largest ox horn you can
find that has a sharp bend in it. The broader
TANNING SKINS 329
the base the better, so that the cup will not be tall
and "tippy." Trim the butt end smooth and even
for the bottom of the cup; then, back from this,
at a distance equal to the proposed height of the
cup, saw through the greater part of the horn,
as shown in Pig 186, but leave enough of the
top for a handle, the latter strip being about 6
inches long and ^-inch wide. Scrape the handle
gradually down to yg-inch thickness at the end.
Then soak the handle in a strong boiling solution
of lime until it is soft, bend it backward around
a stick and bind the end fast to base of handle
at top, until it has cooled and hardened then fit
;
a wôoden bottom in it, and tack and lute it in

place. A
good cement or lute for the purpose is
either No. 4 or No. 5, among the ~ecipes given
above. Before putting in the bottom, scrape and
sandpaper the cup inside and out. The cup can be
ornamented with scrimshaw carvings, like some
of the revolutionary powder horns you see in
museums.
A —
Huntsman's Horn. The following de-
scription of how to make a huntsman's horn is
condensed from one given a good many years ago
by D. M. Morris: Select a cow's horn 14 to 16
inches long, although 12 inches will do. With a
limber stick determine how far the hollow extends
and saw off the tip about an inch above that
point. With a gimlet bore down to the hollow,
taking care to hit it fairly. Ream out the hole
from J4 to 5-16-inch diameter. Dress the horn
down with a half-round file but do not scrape it.
Be careful to get a fair and even surface. To avoid
wôrking the horn too thin, press the thumb on
doubtful places to see if there Is any spring. Work
down the neck as much as it will safely bear. A
brass ferrule should now be fitted tightly around
the neck to prevent the stem of the mouthpiece
from splitting it. Now, to polish the horn: take
a piece of sandpaper 2 or 3 inches square, and
a than the file, In the palm of the right
little finer
hand; then, grasping the horn with the left hand,
twist it around and around from end to end, oc-
casionally rubbing it lengthwise. Continue this
process with finer g'rades of sandpaper till the
very finest has been used and complete the polish-
ing with pumice or rotten stone and water. Then
get from any dealer in musical Instruments an E
flat or cornet mouthpiece, fit It perfectly, drive it
in tightly and your horn is complete. Or, take the
small end of another horn, or the piece sawed off,
and with a sharp and round-pointed pocket-knife
work out a conical cavity at the large end, and
Hjake a hole through the small end for the stem.
Work off the outside, shaping It in the form of a
cone the sides of which are concaved near the base
and convexed toward the stem. This shape will
look well, and the top will be thick enough to rest
easily against the lips. The hole should be about
the size of a rye straw. The shape of the mouth-
piece and the size of the hole
— —
provided it be large
enough do not materially affect the horn. The
stem of the mouthpiece should be to i inch^
long. If shorter, the sound will be too harsh; if
longer, too soft and not far-sounding. Long horns
pioduce flat sounds, shorter ones sharp sounds. A
good horn may be heard three to three and a half
miles. The best horns have a double curve (crooks
in two directions), gradually tapering from butt
to tip, highly colored, or with black or dark points.
A part of the butt must always be removed, as it
is thin and brittle.
Gun Oil. — It is easy to make excellentgun
-oil from the fat of almost any animal. Never use
a vegetable oil on a firearm it Is — sure to gum.
Rattlesnake oil has more body than almost any other
animal oil ; but that of woodchucks, squirrels, 'coons,
€tc., is good. A
fine oil can also be made from
the fat of the ruffed grouse, orfrom the marrow
of a deer's leg bones. Put the fat on a board and
TANNING SKINS 331
with a sharp knife cut it up fine ; then put it out in

the hot sunlight, or warm it gently (do not let it
get hot) before the fire; now force the oil through
a strong cloth bag by squeezing it. To clarify it
so that it will never become viscid, put it in a bottle
with a charge of shot, or some shavings of lead,
and stand the bottle where the sun's rays will
strike it. A heavy deposit will fall. Repeat, and
you will then have an oil equal to that of watch-
makers, but with enough body to stay where it is
put, rather than running down into the chamber
of the gun so as to leave unprotected spots in the
barrel. A large squirrel will yield over an ounce
of tried oil, a fat woodchuck nearly a pint, and a
—
bear several gallons eight gallons of grease have
been procured from a big grizzly.
—
Beards Oil. Bear's oil, by the way. Is better
than lard for shortening biscuit and for irying, and,
when mixed with sugar and spread on bread. Is
not a bad substitute for butter and sirup. It is
rendered by cooking in a pot hung high over a slow
fire, so as not to scorch the fat, which would give
ofi an acrid smell and make the oil less bland. No

salt is added the oil will keep sweet without it,
;
unless In very hot weather (when it should be

kept in a cool room, or In a spring, or in a pot
sunk in the earth). The Indians, who were very
fond of bear's grease, used to preserve it so that
it would not turn rancid even when they were
traveling In summer, by adding the inner bark of
the slippery elm (one drachm to a pound of grease),
keeping them heated together for a few minutes,
and then straining off. They also used sassafras bark
and wild cinnamon for the same purpose. Bear's
oil issuperior to olive oil for the table, and can be
used with impunity by people whose stomachs will
not endure pork fat. I happened to be rendering
some bear's grease at the time of this writing. The
yield was a gallon of oil to ten pounds of fat.
Rattlesnake Oil. —Rattlesnake oil Is solemnly
regarded by the old-fashioned Pennsylvania Dutcl^
and by many backwoods folk, as a specific for rheu-
matism, ringworm, sties, sore eyes generally, and
even for hydrophobia! A
large fat snake yields
from two to two and a half ounces of oil. A
piece
of muslin is stretched over a glass jar, and the
fat, which resembles that of a chicken, is spread on
this. The hot summer sun renders it, and the muslin
strains it. The Dutch are reported to have a
curious way of telling whether the snake has bitten
itself and thereby poisoned its fat. They drop a
little of the oil into a glass of milk. If the oil
floats as a film on top it is good but ;if it sepa-
rates into small beads and the milk gathers in thick

white flakes, as though soured, it Is a sign that the
6r>ake bit Itself.
—
Slush Lamps. ^While I am on the subject of
animal fats and oils, I may as well say something
about extemporized lights for a fixed camp that is
far in the wilderness. A
slush-lamp Is made by
taking a tin can, half filling It with sand or earth,
sticking in It a thin rod of pine or other Inflam-
mable wood, wrapping around this a strip of soft
cotton cloth, and filling the can with melted fat
which contains no salt. Grease can be freed trom
salt by boiling It In water. This Is a much better
arrangement than to use a shallow dish (as I have
seen done) or a mussel shell, and letting the end
of the immersed wick project over one side, where
It will drip grease. But such a light, although
it was the best that many of our pioneers had In
the olden da.ys, is at best a smoky and stinking

aifair. The estimation in which It Is held by those
who have had to use it may be judged from the fact
that In English-speaking countries It has universally
been known as a "slut," except In the Klondike,
where they call It a "bitch."
If more light wanted thao one wick will af-
Is
ford, use a square vessel with a wick at each cor-

ner. Make snuffers or tweezers, by bending a
TANNING SKINS ^ZZ
piece of wire, with which to trim the wicks when
they smoke.
Arush-light is made by soaking the pith of
rushes in melted tallow. When dry, a length of
the rush is then placed in a split stick, or any kind
of clip, and lighted.
—
Candles. Wherever deer, elk, or other animals
whose fat is tallow, are procurable, there is no
excuse but laziness for such vile illumination. Very
satisfactory candles can be made by the following
process, which is called ''dipping." For wicking,
use cotton cord loosely unwound, or dry shredded
bark. Put your tallow in a kettle with some boil-
ing water. One part of hog's lard to three of
tallow may improve the product. A
mixture of tal-
low and beeswax is still better. Scald and skim
twice. Lay two poles sidewise and about a foot
apart on supports, so that they shall be about as
high from the ground as the top of an ordinary
chair; cut some sticks about 15 or 18 inches long
for candle rods; twist your wicking one way, theu
double it; slip the loop over the candle rod and
twist the other way, making a firm wick put about
;
six wicks on each rod, a couple of inches apart.

Dip a row of wicks into the melted tallow, place
the rod across the two long poles, and thus dip
each row of wicks in turn. Each will have time
to cool and harden between the dips. If allowed
to cool too fast they will crack: so work slowly.
When the first dipping has hardened, repeat the
process, and so on until the candles are of desired
thickness. Replenish the tallow as needed, tak-
ing it off the fire, of course, for each dip. This
is the way our foremothers made candles before
they got candle molds.

For a candlestick, split the end of a stick for
several inches, then again crosswise; open these
segments by pushing" a flat, thin stick down each;
insert candle, and remove wedges sharpen the other
;
end of the stick,and jab it into the ground where-

ever wanted. Or, put a loop of bark in the cleft
end of a stick, the loop projecting at one side.
Or, cut the end of a large potato square off, and
gouge a hole for the candle in the opposite end.
Other makeshifts are to mold
clay around butt of
candle, with flat base ; bore a hole in a block of
wood, or drive three nails in it; use a hollow bone;
or, if you want a candlestick attacned like a bracket
to a vertical pole, take a pocket-knife with blade at
each end, drive one blade into pole so that knife
sticks out at right angle, open the other blade half
way, on top, and stick candle on it.
—
Candle Lanterns. A very good lantern can be
extemporized with a candle and a large tin can, or,
Fig. 187. —Lard pail lantern
better, a 5-lb. lard pail, the latter having the ad-

vantage that its flaring sides help to reflect the light.
At a Doint a little beyond the middle of the can

or pail make two cuts, crossing each other, through
the tin, and bend the triangular points inward so as
to grip the candle, when it is shoved up through
the hole, and prevent it from slipping" back. Then
fix a wire bail on top. If a can is used, run the
bail wire through a hole in the closed end, on
through to the open end, and up into a loop for
handle. If a pail, cut the candle hole directly in
line with one of the bail ears, detach the bail from
this ear, but leave it on the other, and run the free
end around and hook it under flange of bottom
(Fig 187). The candle is shoved up only a littl"
TANNING SKINS 335
inside the pail, at first, and shoved on farther as it
burns down.
Torches. — If a dead pine tree can be found,
chop ofiE one of the old stubs of limbs, cutting deep
into the trunk at the joint so as to get as much of
the heavy resinous bulb as you can. Cut a few
splinters on the big en<i of this pine knQt,Jf |ieed
be, and light it.^ ^0^> ;^ ^^';;'^V:v..5<J>N^^<>
Abark torch is made by ^peeling several stnps ^-^
*
of birch bark four or five inches wide, double or y*
fold them several times if the strips are long, and
place these bunches in the split end of a stick for <,
handle. Or, take half-inch strips, two feet long or
more, from the rough bark of a cedar, bind them
together into a faggot with string's of the green
inner bark, and set one end afire. It will not
make much of a blaze, but will burn for several
hours, giving at least enough light to read a com-
pass by.
Agood torch is made by winding cotton yarn or
rags around a forked stick, in the form of a ball,
and soaking in oil or melted tallow.
Southern Indians, when exploring caves, used
joints of cane filled with deer's tallow and sup-
plied with wicks.
Soap Making. —Soap can be made wherever
there wood and grease.
is A rough-and-ready way
is to boil wood ashes from the camp-fire in a little
ooftwater (rainwater is best, hard water will not
do) and allow them to settle, the clear liquid
being decanted off; this can be done from day to
iay until the required quantity of weak lye has
accumulated. Evaporate this by boiling until it is
strong enough to float an egg. Then melt down
any kind of animal fat (do not have the kettle
more than half full), and while it is hot, add it
to Continue boiling and stirring
the boiling lye.
until the mixture is of about the consistency of
thick porridge then pour it into any flat vessel and
;
let it cool. The result is soft soap. To make"

hard soap, you have merely to stir Into the above
as soon as it is poured out, some salt, in the pro-
portion of two or three pints to five gallons of
soap. A
little powdered rosin added gradually to
ihe melted tallow, before mixing with the lye, will
make the soap firmer. Soap can be made without
boiling, but it takes longer.
—
Lye-Running. Only the ashes of hardwoods are
good for lye; those of resinous woods will not mix
with the fat in boiling. The woods richest in pot-
ash are hickory, sugar maple, ash, beech and buck-
eye. The poisonous kernels of buckeye are soapy
and can be used to cleanse fine fabrics. As lye
is often useful to a backwoods tanner, and for
other purposes, it may be worth while to put up an
ash-hopper at a permanent camp. Take a section
of hollow tree, or a barrel with both heads knocked
out, or with auger holes bored in bottom. Stand
it on a wide board that is elevated high enough
for a bucket to stand below it. Cut a Y-shaped

groove in the board part way around the bottom
of the barrel and out to front of board. Tilt the
board a little and fasten it so that the liquor from
the barrel will follow the grooved channel to the
front of the board and thus trickle into a pail set
below it. Now put two or three layers of small
round sticks in the bottom of the barrel, laying each
course crosswise of the one below, cob-house fashion,
and on top of this lay a couple of inches of straw
or coarse grass; then put your ashes in the barrel,
tamping them down firmly as they are shoveled in;
make a funnel-shaped depression in the top and pour
a bucket of rainwater into it. It will be from
half a day to a day before the leach will run.
Thereafter keep some water standing In the de-
pression, adding only when the other water has dis-
appeared. If the ashes have been firmly tamped,
the leach will only trickle through, and that is
what you want. The first run will be strong
enough to cut grease; later runs should be put
th»-oueh twice. Such lye needs no boiling down.
CHAPTER XIX
CAVE EXPLORATION
To those who love the tang of adventure in
strange and untrodden places there is no experience,
nowadays, that compares with opening up and ex-
ploring caverns. To find a mountain that has
never been ascended, or a region on the earth's sur-
face that has never been mapped, one must make
long journeys and spend a fortune. Caves may
be found wherever there are thick beds of perme-
able limestone with sink-holes on the surface, or
other evidence of subterranean water-courses. The
descent calls for no costly equipment. It may be
made at any season of the year. The trip will
take only a day or two. And cave exploration is
a sport that yields quick results: the moment you
get underground you are face to face with the
unknown.
Yes, there may be nothing new under the sun,
but under the earth nearly everything is new. It
is safe to say that not one per cent of the subter-
ranean passages in our limestone regions have been

explored. In Kentucky alone, according to Pro-
fessor Shaler, there are at least 100,000 miles of
caverns that have not filled up. A similar honey-
combed formation extends over large parts of In-
diana, Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, and Tennessee.
Superb caverns have been found in the Shenandoah
Valley of Virginia, in the Black Hills of South
Dakota, and in other parts of our country. Verr
few, even of our best-known caves, have yet beerz
completely explored. There are hundreds, and per
haps thousands, that no man ever has entered. They
337
are sealed or masked from our observation, and yet
have left marks by which their existence can be
proved.
Cave "Sign." —
The surface indications of a
cavernous region are easy to read. Take the Ozark
Plateau, for example. Anyone traveling cross-
country from the Missouri River toward Arkansas
will notice that the surface rock mostly is lime-
stone and that it is commonly porous or fissured,
being easily ''eaten" by the elements. Often he
will observe what geologists call vermicular lime-
stone, full of little holes like those that earthworms
bore in the soil, or like what "sawyers" bore in
pine timber. He will cross some fine rivers, gen-
marvel at the almost total
erally very clear, but will
absence of brooks and spring branches; this even
in a country that is distinctly mountainous.
In summer one maytravel sometimes for a day
in the Ozarks without finding running water. He
may come to the perfectly dry bed of a water-course
that evidently drains a considerable territory, and
his driver will tell him that this "dry fork" car-
ries surface water only for a short time after a
heavy rainfall. The real drainage stream flows
underground.
When a spring is met in this region it is
likely to be a large one. A typical "big spring"

boils out of a hillside and fills a crater-like basin
sixty to a hundred feet in diameter. Its surface
is blue as indigo. The water is so clear that, by
immersing your face, you can see the white bottom
forty or fifty feet below. The outlet is strong
enough and forms at once a creek
to turn a mill,
navigable by canoes. Such are the St. James Spring
on the Meramec, the Round or Blue Spring on the
Current River, Bryce's Spring on the Niangua, and
Mammoth Spring near the Missouri-Arkansas line.
On wide plateaus, where the drainage is not
abrupt, our traveler will see numerous funnel-
shaped depressions In the fields, into which sur-
CAVE EXPLORATION 339
face water either disappears quickly after a rain,
or collects in ponds, according to whether the vent
of the "sink-hole" is open or has been closed. Often
one comes to a place where the fields are fairly
pock-marked with such holes.
All this tells a plain story. There are few small
springs and brooks because the surface rock is so
porous or fissured that rain almost immediately
seeps through it to underground channels. The
sink-holes are simply old cavern chambers with
the roofs fallen in. Generally there are deeper
chambers or below them, into which the
galleries
drainage flows if the sieve or tube in the funnelV
neck has not been closed by accident or design.
The great springs are outlets of subterranean rivers.
Whenever the underground waters have eroded
a channel at a lower level than that which drained
the original gallery the latter is left dry and forms
an extensive cavern that can be opened for explora-
tion. This is provided that the old passages have
not filled up again by a process that will be de-
scribed hereafter.
Cave Districts. Some —
of the caverns already
known in the Ozarks are of noble dimensions. The
Marble Cave, forty miles from Marionville, Mo.,
has been traversed for many miles, and to a depth
of 400 feet below the surface. One of its vaulted
chambers is 350 feet long, 125 feet wide, and 195
feet high,by actual measurement. Three miles
away the exquisitely beautiful Fairy Cave, which
is
is entered through a sink-hole 100 feet deep. There

are said to be over a hundred known caves in Stone
County alone.
Crossing the Mississippi into southern Illinois, we
find a cavernous limestone belt in comparatively
level country. Near Burksville is a cavern that is
said to have been explored fourteen miles one way
and six miles in the opposite direction, without
finding- either end. It has a lake, and a river
in which there are blind fish.
Southern Indiana has scores of caves that contain
e3êless fish and crustaceans, beds of niter, epsom
salts, great deposits of alabaster, and Indian relics.
In the Wyandot Cave is a domed chamber i,ooo
feet in circumference and 185 feet high, from the
floor of which rises a pyramid to within 50 feet of
the roof. In another vast hall is a symmetrical pil-
lar 40 feet high and 75 feet in periphery, rising
from a base that is 300 feet around, the whole mass
being solid, homogeneous alabaster as white as snow.
The finest cavern district in the world is about
the head waters of the Green River, in Kentucky.
Here the limestones have a depth of several hundred
feet, and hence are peculiarly favorable for the
formation of stupendous caverns. Edm.onston
County by itself has some five hundred caves, one
of which, the Mammoth Cave, is certainly the larg-
est that has yet been discovered on the globe. With-
in a section of about ten square miles, and a thick-
ness of 300 feet, where this gigantic cavern is
centered, there are probably more than 200 miles
of galleries enough to permit, the passage
large
of a man. The
''Long Route" for visitors in the
Mammoth Cave, which is mostly quite smooth and
easy, takes eight or nine hours of steady walking
at an average pace of two miles an hour. One of
the domes is 300 feet high. The Mammoth Dome
is about 400 feet in length, 150 feet in width, and
from 80 to 250 feet high, according to position.
The cave district of the Shenandoah Valley, in
Virginia, differs from those hitherto mentioned in
that the rock, instead of lying in horizontal strata,
is folded and uptilted. This peculiarity limits the
Virginia caverns to moderate dimensions, but af-
fords extraordinary bases for the growth of ala-
baster "cascades" and other fantastic formations of
dripstone. Here are the far-famed Caves of Luray,
which contain the most weird and beautiful grottoes
in the known world.
How Caves are Formed. —No one should try
to explore a cavern until he has learned how these
underground passages are formed. To go ignor-
antly into such places is to lose most of their inter-
esting features and to court disaster.
It is a common error to imagine that our caverns
have been caused by earthquakes or by volcanic
forces. An earthquake may crack great cre\ ices
in the crust of the earth, as at New Madrid, in
181 1, and at Charleston, in 1886, but these are
very narrow in proportion to their length and
depth. It never forms vaulted chambers or smooth-
ly rounded passages.
More numerous are the rifts and chasms left by
"faults" in the rock where strata have been folded
in the slow shrinkage of mountain-building and then
have been pulled apart by a subsidence. These, too,
are only narrow fissures, and not caves at all.
Avolcano may form a sort of cave with its lava
when the fluid mass underneath flows away and
leaves an arch of its hardened crust in place. Such
action is never found save in volcanic countries.
Hot springs or geysers bore channels of escape
from their deep reservoirs to the surface. Where
the rock is soluble they may eat out large chambers,
but they do not excavate lateral galleries.
There is a class of horizontal caves in the faces
of very common in the Appalachians and in
cliffs,
the Southwest, that are called "rock houses." These

always are shallow enough to admit daylight
throughout their interiors, and they are dry. Their
origin is evident. Where an exposed stratum of
very soft rock underlies one of hard and impervious
material, on the face of a cliff, the soft stone ab-
sorbs water, and when this freezes it -is cracked off
and disintegrated. The debris is whirled around

by the winds and helps to grind out a "room" under
the hard ledge that projects like a porch roof over>.
head. Such places often are used for shelter bj
man and beast. They are the "robber caves" and
"bear dens" of song and storj^ but true caverns
they are not.
Along the sea-coast are many interesting but
shallow grottoes that have been pounded out by
rocks hurled by the incoming waves, and worn in-
to curious forms by the restless waters themselves.
Neither these nor any of the preceding kinds of
natural excavations or fissures are extensive enough
to rank with the caverns that abound in limestone
formations throughout the earth.
Vast subterranean passages and chambers are
Fig. 188. —
Cross section of cavern
A B, upper gallery (ancient); g g, sink-holes r C D,
lower gallery (modern); h, stream; A, old mouth of
cavern; f f f limestone; C, present mouth of cavern;
,
e e e, hard rock
formed in limestone by an agency far gentler than

any cf those mentioned above.
First, there must have been at some time a de^
ciduous forest, shedding, each autumn, a thick layei'
of leaves. Upon these leaves the rains fall, and
their waters absorb from the decaying vegetation
charges of carbonic acid (the same gas that is used
in soda fountains). This acidulated water, seep^
ing Intocrevices in the limestone, dissolves out
much of the lime and leaves only a shell of the
original rock. Thus the cracks in the surface
gradually widen and deepen.
When the rainwater reaches an underlying bed
of sandstone, or of some other rock that is not
easily dissolved by carbonic acid. Its downward
course Is stayed. Then, under pressure from above,
it begins eating and cutting a more or less horizontal
course along the underground drainage plane. This

mining process is hastened by erosion. Whenever
there Is a crack or fault large enough to admit a
considerable riii of water, sand and gravel are car-
ried below, which, being whirled about in a vortex,
rapidly cut the walls of the cave bed. Nodules of
flint, washed out from the honeycombed rock above,
lend powerful aid to this grinding and drilling

process. Thus in time a large chamber is excavated
below the main fissure and an underground river
finds its channel to some exit which may be miles
away.
When a cave chamber forms near the surface of
the ground its arch or vault may gradually weaken
until can no longer sustain the weight overhead.
it
It collapses, leaving a pit strewn with rubbish that

was formerly the dome of the cave. Slowly some of
this rubbish is pulverized and washed away. The
edge of the pit wêars smooth and sloping sides are
formed, tapering downward to a common center.
The result finally is a funnel-shaped cavity in the
earth that we call a sink-hole.
—
Abysses. In some districts, as in the cavernous
region of Kentucky, these sink-holes, varying great-
ly ia size, may average a hundred to the square
mile. Occasionally one will be found that covers
several acres and descends gradually to a hundred
feet at its throat. The distance thence downward
through a pit or dome to the floor below is usual-
ly not great, but in some Instances exceeds a hun-
two hundred, feet. The Devil's Hole,
dred, or even
near Fordland, Mo., is so deep that when large
logs are tumbled into it they are never heard to
strike bottom but I have not learned of any trust-
;
worthy measuring having been done at this place.

It is claimed that the famous Rowan Pit in York-
shire, England, has been descended vertically six
hundred feet without finding" bottom. How true
this may be I do not know. Strange errors have
been made by earnest and sincere men in ''measur-
ing" pits and caverns. I will quote a remarkable
example from Mr. Hovey:

'Tldon Hole ... Is a famous oit in the Peak of
Derbyshire, about which Hobbes wrote in hntln
and Cotton In English. The latter thus testifies
in verse:
"'I myself, with half the Peak surrounded,
Eight hundred, four score and four yards have

sounded;
And though of these four score turned back wet,
The plummet drew and found no bottom yet!*
''In other vrords, the poet's measurement found

no bottom at the astonishing depth of 2,652 feet^
Probably Mr. Cotton let the rope coil on the bot-
tom, mistaking the weight of it for that of the
—
plummet a mistake actually made by a civil engin-
eer in Kentucky, vrho reported a pit to be 300 feet
deep, vs^hich afterward was proved to be but 90
feet. Concerning the Eldon Hole, it is further
stated that the Earl of Leicester hired a man to
descend, who, after going down 750 feet, was
drawn up a raving maniac, and died in eight days.
Very likely he imitated the Knight of La Mancha,
when In the Spanish cave, who ensconced himself
on a convenient shelf, and let the rope dangle as
far as It might below, while he dreamed the rest
of the adventure. At all events when Mr. Lloyd, a
member of the Royal Society, took it in hand to
sound the bottom of the Eldon Hole, he found it
at the exact depth of 186 feet, and told the story
In the Transactions of the Society."
When the roof at both ends of a cavern chambef
drops in, leaving the central arch Intact, the re-
sult Is a ''natural bridge," such as the noted one
in Rockbridge County, Virginia, the lower face of
which 160 feet, and the upper surface 215 feet
is
above the water of Cedar Creek. Larger ones

are found In other localities.
When both ends of a cavern gallery or long cor-
ridor fall in, and the bridge thus formed Is very
wide, we have a "natural tunnel." I know of one
on a fork of the Current River In Missouri, where
the stream pierces a mountain ridge. Near the
Clinch River, in Virginia, a creek flows through a
great arch for more than half a mile. In Mam-
moth Cave there is an arcade 4,000 feet long-, 100
feet wide, and 45 feet high. If both ends of this
hall should fall in there would be another of these
natural tunnels.
*teutj#
Fig. 189. — Map of a part of the Mammoth Cave

(shaded parts are at low level)
At first sight it seems incredible that such vast

excavations could be made by chemical action and
erosion. And yet there have been greater ones in
former caverns that kept on hollowing out the rock
until their roofs could no longer stand the strain.
The debris then being disintegrated and washed
away, there remain no traces of the old caverns
except ravines or valleys that originally were arched
over and were wholly underground. The part
that minute agencies and gentle but persistent forces
play in building up and reshaping the earth is illus-
tiated by the fact that most of the limestone itself
is derived from the remains of very small animals
that covered the floors of the ancient seas.

Stalactites and Stalagmites. Caves are ob^ —
literated by other means than by collapse. Strange-
ly enough, the very process that hollows out a cav-
ern has a tendency to fill it up again. Everyone
who has visited a limestone cave of any consequence
has noticed the stalactites hanging from the ceiling
and stalagmites rising from the floor directly be-
neath them. These are formed in the following
manner:
The vault of a cave chamber is seldom dry.
Water still seeps very slowly through it. Now,
when acidulated water pours through a crevice in
little rillshas a cutting and eating effect upon
it
the rock. But where there is no perceptible crack,

and it seeps through the room and falls drop by
drop, each drop remains long enough upon the ceil-
ing to deposit some of its dissolved lime upon the
ceiling in the form of a ring. The next drop leaves
another layer, and so on. Thus there is built, at
a slender, delicate tube of soft lime resembling
first,
a pipestem. By and by this tube fills up, and it

hardens through cr}^stallization. Thereafter it
grows thicker and longer from constant deposits by
evaporation on the outside, and it forms what we
call a stalactite.
Meantime all those drops that did not evaporate
wholly on the ceiling leave the rest of their lime at
where they
the points strike the floor. Thus there
grow upward a series mamillary concretions or
of
stalagmites rising higher and higher toward the
long pendants overhead. In time a stalactite and
a stalagmite will join, forming a pillar. If the
seepage from above exudes chiefly through a long fis-
sure, the dripstone will join along- this line into
a solid partition. In way small chambers are
this
formed out of large ones, passages are obstructed,
defiles are closed, ceilings and floors grow toward
each other, until finally a whole cavern may be
closed up by the same process that started its ex-
cavation.
Dripstone is name given to all de-
the general
posits made by dripping water, regardless of their
forms and composition. Originally it is nothing
but soft sulphate or carbonate of lime, with per-
haps a trace of iron or other metal soluble in car-
bonic acid. Gradually it hardens into gypsum or
alabaster or calcite, as the case may be. Often its
crystalline forms are of great beauty, both in struc-
ture and in coloration. The shapes that dripstone
assumes in stalactites, in pillars, and on cavern
walls, are as varied as those in a kaleidoscope, rang-
ing from delicate filigree to baronial ruins, from
water to imitations of
boiling" springs or cascades of
animals or grotesque figures suggesting phantasm^
of mythology.
The thickness of dripstone is a very uncertain
measure of the age of a deposit. Limestone rocks
vary in composition and in the solubility of their
lime. Underground waters vary in their percentage
of carbonic acid, from weak solutions to those that
effervesce and have an acid taste. The rate of
seepage varies. So a stalagmite may grow at the
rate of nearly an inch a year, for a time, and after-
ward less than that in ten or twenty or fifty years.
—
How TO Explore. Before trying to explore a
cavern it is advisable to study the topography of
the surrounding country. Note where the main
stream of the district lies. Its level determines
how deep the cave can possibly go. The thickness
of the limestone bed above that level shows the
maximum possible altitude of the cave chambers.
Most of the caves that have been explored are
entered through a passage into a hillside. Such an
opening usually indicates that this was once the
drainage outlet of the cave. If no water be run-
ning out of it now, the underground stream must
have worked a way down through the original
cave bed and opened a new gallery below.
A novice should first gain some experience in com-
pany with a guide, in some cave that is easily en-
tered. Everj^body is nervous on his first expedi-
tion underground, unless the course is well known
to companions who have been there before. A cav-
ern is the worst of all places to get ''rattled" in.
When you do start exploring on your own ac-
count, take it gradually, until you can bore into the
unknown as coolly as you would bite off the end
of a cigar.
When a new cave is to be entered, do not go
with a large party. They will confuse each other
with their reverberating babble, discussions as to
the best route will arise, and the larger the party
the greater the chance that someone will flunk.
TJiree is a good number: then there are two men
to help one who may have got into difficulties.
—
Outfit. The importance of thoroughly depend-
able lights is paramount. Big, clumsy lanterns
should not be taken; they are always a nuisance
when one is climbing or crawling. The best light
for cave exploration that I know of is an acety-
lene lantern with small bail, shaped like a con-
ductor's lantern, giving a 20-candle-power light for
five to six hours on three ounces of carbide. It
spreads light all around, instead of merely throwing
a beam in one direction like a bull's-eye lantern.
If one such light is in the party the others may be
small acetylene bull's-eye lamps. The best of these
has a sparking attachment that lights without
matches (but don't leave out the matches), and is
fitted with folding handles on the side. The hook
and spring attachment used on miners' lamps may
CAVE EXPLORATION ZA\)
be substituted, but personally I do not like it so well.

Spare carbide to last at least twelve hours should
be carried by each man, in air-tight tins specially
made for the purpose and everybody should have a
;
canteen of water, both for the lamp and for his

own as there is no certainty of finding any
use,
in an unexplored cave.
See that the lanterns are in perfect working order.
If previously used a good deal, they should be re-
fitted with fresh felt packing, as the old packing may
be clogged with carbide dust.
Besides his lantern, every member of the party
should carry one or two good hard candles. There
is no telling when an accident may happen to a lan-
tern it may balk, may be crushed, or may be dropped

;
into a pit. The candle is also needed when re-

charging the lantern.
Matches should be waterproofed, either by dip-
ping in melted paraffin, or in collodion, or in shellac
varnish thinned with alcohol. An emergency supply
of matches not to be used except when there are no
others, should be carried in a waterproof box with
cover fitted so it cannot drop off. This match-box
ought to have a small swivel or eye attached so it
can be fastened to one's belt by a key chain. Then
it will stay with you to the death. Inside this box,
vvith the matches, stow a little strip of emery cloth,
folded, to strike a match on when you and all your
surroundings are sopping wet.
A compass may be useful if the general course
of the cave is fairly straight, but in the labyrinths
that most caves are contorted into it is of little
or no avail. Neither is a pedometer. A
pocket
aneroid may be useful to indicate one's depth from
the surface, but it is by no means necessary.
Wear old clothes, of course. Everything" should
be of wool, except that the coat should be of con-
ventional hunter's pattern, khaki or duxbak, with
plenty of pockets. Such a coat carries all the im-
pedimenta except the lantern, and keeps them stored
away where they will not flop nor stick out to im«
pede one's progress in climbing or in squeezing
through narrows. Wear the flaps closed at all
times.
The hat should be soft and with narrow brim.
Gloves are usefulto keep the hands from being lacer-
ated. Shoes should be studded with cone-headed
Hungarian nails {not calks nor broad hobnails)
around the edges of heels and soles, including the
arch of the foot. This makes them cling better
to the rocks. Too many nails defeat the purpose,
for they will not "bite" well. Hard steel calks are
slippery on rocks.
Waterproofs are an utter nuisance in cave hunt-
ing. The wetting you may get will do you no harm
at all in the cave air, which is always of uniform
temperature. Do not wear a lot of bunchy cloth-
ing from dread of cold. You will be exercising all
the time in the most exhilarating air you ever
breathed. Go slow in entering and emerging from
the cave then there will be no risk of a chill.
;
Take for granted that the cave will prove to be

a labyrinth of three dimensions, far more puzzling
than anything you have ever encountered on earth.
It may not be so ; but most caverns are. There
is only one absolutely safe way to explore an un-
known cave, so far as not getting lost is concerned,

and that is for each member of the party to carry
plenty of common white twine, and take his turn as
file closer in paying out this twine as he advances.
In some places you can buy cord put up in tubes

that unreels itself without danger of tangling.
Where the going is good there may be no need for
the twine; but don't neglect this simple precau-
tion in all parts of the cave where there may be the
least doubt of the route back again.
Someone should carry a strong cord for lowering
a lantern into pits or gulfs.
In the game pocket of your coat stow a lunch and
an emergency ration, along with the small canteen
of water. Somebody should carry a cup, as you may
have to catch drip-water. Let another man bear a
cold-chisel and a small hammer for collecting speci-
mens, marking passages, and cutting nicks for hand-
hold and foothold. If there is any likelihood of de-
scending into a lower galler}^, take about fifty feet
of Alpine rope (to be had of some camp outfitters).
Large cavern chambers cannot be illuminated with
lanterns. So go provided with strips of magnesium
ribbon. Do not try to use this ribbon as a substi-
tute for flash-powder in photographing: it will
show the most freakish bolts of lightning in your
pictures. Satisfactory interiors, in caves, can only
be taken with a wnde-angle lens, as the range is
nearly always short.
—
Cave Measurements. In estimating distances
beware of "cave miles." It is almost impossible to
keep from overestimating distances in labyrinths un^
derground, unless one trails a cord behind him
wherever he goes. A cave mile, when tried by
tape-line, generally proves to be only a few hundred
yards long. Heights, depths, and wîdths are also
very deceptive by lantern light.
It may be asked. How are heights of cavern domes
measured? They used to be "measured" by timing
the flight of rockets made for the purpose, but such
expedients were very inaccurate. The only easy
and reliable way that I know of is by sending up
toy balloons with cord attached. There are no
draughts in the interior of caves, and this method
can be depended on, no matter how high the vault
may be.
Descending into Abysses. —Do not be afraid of
fire-damp, unless you are going down a sink-hole
that may have been sealed at the bottom. The air
of a true cave is purer and more invigorating than
any to be breathed on earth. One can work with
less fatigue in a cave than in the open air.
The chance of finding caverns that no one else

has explored is now limited, in our country, mostly
to those that can be entered by descending sink-
holes. This is work that calls for deliberate pre-
paration and cool heads. After effecting an open-
ing in the bottom of the "sink," if it has been closed,
erect a strong frame over the opening to hold a
hoisting-tackle, and use a rope which has been
stretched enough to insure that it will not spin round
when a wêight is suspended from it. This rig is
better than a windlass, if for no other reason than
that the explorer has more confidence that it will not
let fly and drop him. For short descents it is suf-
ficient to fasten the rope around the left ankle of
the adventurer and then make a stirrup-loop for his
foot. Generally it is better to rig a boatswain's
chair to sit in (Fig. 149). This is simply a board
seatwith an auger-hole at each end through which
a slack rope is roved and the ends knotted, after
which the hoisting rope is made fast to the middl^'.
of the slack at a convenient height.
Before a man starts down he fastens a signal
cord to his waist, which is then passed to one side
of the opening, where it cannot become entangled
with the hoisting rope, and is managed there by
somebody who has no other duty to distract him.
One jerk on this cord means stop, two, lower, three
hoist. Such an appliance is absolutely necessary in
deep holes, unless some sort of telephone is sub-
stituted. There should be three trusty men for the
main rope and one for the signal-cord. The ex-
plorer should have a staff to help him swing clear
of impediments, and it must be tied to him by a
lanyard.
Before the descent is made all loose stones should
be removed from around the mouth of the pit, for a
pebble falling from a considerable height may stun
or kill a man. Aball of something like cotton
waste, saturated with oil, should be ignited and
dropped into the pit before descending, to guard
against accident from fire-damp.
What is Found in Caves. —The chief commerv
rial product of caves, up to date,
Is the so-called
*' Mexican Onyx," which a fine-grained, trans-

is
lucent, and beautifully colored variety of dripstone.

Occasionally the "cave pearls" found in shallow
pools, where they have been polished by attrition,
have been set as gems. In olden times nearly all
the niter used by our forefathers in making gun^
powder was procured from caverns. Guano, ochre,
and the sulphates of soda and of magnesia are
found in caves. The chance of discovering mineral
veins is lessened by the incrustation of dripstone that
coats the walls; there is no "bloom" to attract the
eye.
The animal life of caverns is peculiar. It in-
cludes transparent fish, white crayfish, cave lizards,
white mice and rats, cave crickets, and minor species
— all blind, and some of them quite eyeless be- —
sides the usual colonies of bats. Snakes are never
met inside of caverns, but sometimes may be en-
countered in sink-holes, or in the "rock-houses" prev-
iously mentioned.
Digging in the floors of caves for relics of pre-
historic man has long been a favorite branch of
science in Europe, but comparatively little of thi^
work has been done in America. Sometimes human
skeletons of our own era are found encased in the
dripstone, as at Luray, at Mammoth
Cave, In the
Adelsberg, and in the Cave
MelidonI, where
of
the remains of three hundred Cretans, who were
-smoked to death by the Turks in 1822, are gradually
disappearing in a stony shroud.
CHAPTER XX
BEE HUNTING
The craft of the bee hunter, although based upon
some curious woods lore, isnot hard to acquire
under proper tutelage. The theory is simple enough.
First capture a few wild bees and let them fill up
on honey or other bait that has been brought along
for the purpose; then liberate them, follow in the
direction of their flight as far as you are sure of
it, capture and send out more guides, and so on
until the tree is reached. In practice, successful bee
hunters resort to some shrewd arts unknown in any
other branch of wildcraft.
A
backwoodsman's way of ^'lining" bees, when he
merely chances upon them, not prepared for regu-
lar bee hunting, is to capture one of the insects and
fasten to it, or stick into it, a small, downy feather,
a bit of straw or thistle-down, or some other light
thing by which he can distinguish the insect in its
flight; then he liberates it, and follows it as far as
he can by sight. The bee, bothered by its strange
incumbrance, and finding that it cannot rid itself of
the thing by its own exertions, goes home for help.
Then the hunter, having secured a few more bees,
follows the line of flight as far as he can, sets free
another marked bee, and thus proceeds until he
either finds the hive or at least gets a clear notion
of its whereabouts. Then he, too, goes home, and
prepares for bee robbing in earnest.
That sort of thing is accidental. But a regular bee
hunter does not depend upon luck at any stage of
the game. He goes out looking for bees, and for
bees only. He knows where to look, where not to
354
BEE HUNTING 355
look, and what to do when he finds the bees, all
according to the season of the year and the lay of
the land.
Spring. —The time to find a bee-tree is
easiest
early in the spring, or late in the fall, because then
there is no nectar for the bees and they will take

kindly to bait; also, because then there are no leaves
on the with the hunter's vision,
trees to interfere
Of course, poor policy to rob a beehive in
it is
spring, for what honey is left will be old, dark

colored, and not so well flavored as new honey but ;
this is a good time to mark the bee-tree for future

attack. The methods for spring and summer hunt-
ing are different ; so I will describe them in sequence.
In the first warm
days of spring, while there still
^s snow on the ground, a hive may sometimes be
located by listening for the humming of the bees
in their cleansing flight, and by looking for dead
bees on the snow, under likely looking trees, w^here
they have been dropped by workers in cleaning the
hive. But, as a rule, it will be necessary to find
where the bees are collecting early sweets, or, in
default of this, to lure them to bait specially pre-
pared for the purpose.
As soon as the sap of the sugar maple begins to
rise, which may be as early as the middle of Feb-
ruary if the season is forward, but commonly is
later, the bee hunter goes among the maples and
birches. Wherever a gash or bruise in the bark lets
the sap ooze out, or "bleed," as he calls it, he may
find bees atwork. The sap flows best on a warm
day following a freezing night. regular bee A
hunter will purposely wound a number of trees in
different localities, in anticipation oi this.
Early in March he looks for skunk-cabbage,
which, by the way, is not the only malodorous thing
that bees frequent at this season. Toward the
middle or end of ]\Iarch the willow catkins attract
a buzzing throng. In April the beech and some ot
the maples are in bloom and fragrant with sweets.
356 CAMPING AND WOOr^CRAFT
Then come the columbine and dicentra (Dutch-
man's breeches), from which the honey bee gathers
pollen only, for its tongue .is too short to reach the
nectar as the bumblebee's does.
—
Baiting. If such scouting trips fail, the hunter
will resort to lures. A backwoodsman who has
neither honey, nor sirup, nor sugar, with which to
prepare bee-bait, will steep corn-cobs for a couple
of days in what, by way of euphemism, he calls '"sour-
bait," or in strong brine scented with anise or ber-
gamot. These he places on stumps in his fields,
where the bees are pretty sure to take them for
treasure-trove. A surer way to attract them is by
roasting honyecomb or beeswax. For this purpose
a piece of tin or a flat stone is heated in the fire,
and the comb or wax, moistened with water, is

placed on it. The chief objection to this method is
that it is bothersome to carry the hot rock or tin
from place to place.
Bees are fond of certain essential oils, such as oil
of anise and oil of bergamot, which, either singly
or in combination, may be used as a lure by adding
a few drops to a vial of sugar-water. This may be
done at any season. Some bee men prefer to take
flowers of the particular plant or tree that the bees
are favoring at a given time, pack them well down in
a wide-mouthed jar, add just enough diluted alcohol
(25%) to cover, and let stand a few days. In this
way you can make your own essences of buck-
wheat, goldenrod, clover, etc., with which to dope
your sugar-water. The latter is a thin sirup made
by dissolving granulated sugar in three times its
bulk of water, or clear honey thinned with an equal
bulk of warm water, or a mixture of sugar and
honey in water. A
4-ounce vial of it is plenty.
The reason why ordinary thick honey will not
do so well as the diluted mixture Is this: You will
wish to judge, from the time of the bees' flight,
how far away the bee-tree Is. Their time of ab-
sence when carrying nectar is pretty accurately
—
BEE HUNTING 357
known, for different distances. But honey is much

thicker, heavier, and more sticky than the nectar that
bees gather from flowers, the latter being little more
than sweetened water plus aroma. Consequently
it takes the bees longer to fill up on honey, they
stagger with it in their flight, and it takes longer

to discharge their cargo.
So the hunter will set out a bait of, say, diluted
honey to which a drop of oil of anise has been added.
Bees will smell such an enticing odor for a mile or
more. In any case, the object is first to capture
some wild bees as guides. The way to manage
them after they are caught Is to be described later.
—
Nectar. Early sweets are gathered by bees
from the bloom of kinds of fruit-bearing trees
all
and plants, from hepaticas,

violets, and other
flowers. In May the busy insects forage on the
clematis, dandelion, honey locust, tulip or ''yellov^r
poplar." The locust bears nectar only at intervals

tulip
of several years, but the big blossoms of the
tree are commonly rich in it so —
rich that some-
times the nectar can be dipped out wnth a spoon
to the
as well as in pollen, which is a necessity
bee. That unhappily imported weed among our
trees, the ailanthus or *'tree of heaven," is another
favorite of the bees, despite its ill-smelling blossoms.
Through the summer months there is almost a
boneset,
surfeit of sweets for the honey-maker:
coralberry, figwort,
borage, bugloss, white clover,
goldenrod, milkweed, motherwort, mustard, rape,
sage, Spanish needle, spider-flower, sumac, sunflower,

teasel, willow-herb — a legion of others— and, fa-
vored of all in forested regions, the cream-colored

blossoms of the linden or basswood.
The West has a famous nectar-bearer called the
Rocky Mountain bee-plant. In the South, the bees
those of the
of the lowlands use the cotton plants;
mountains, where there is a bewildering variety
the Imden
of ''honey-bloom/' seek by preference
sour-
and the delightfully aromatic blossoms of the
wood.
As summer wanes, the bees turn to the asters,
catnip, fireweed, fleabane, heartsease, and other late-
blooming plants. Wherever there is a buckwheat
field they will be found in their glory. Later they
work in the turnip patches. Some of the many
species of goldenrod yield nectar until well on in
October.
—
Outfit. The equipment for bee hunting is
very simple. You will need a small box or two,
same thinned honey or sugar-water (scented or not
as you choose), a few pinches of flour in a little
box or bag (or, preferably, a small tube of artist's
white paint and a camel's-hair brush). watch, A
compass, and perhaps an opera glass, should be taken
along, particularly if you are an amateur; and do
not omit a lunch, for you are likely to be out all
day.
As for boxes, a couple of half-pound candy boxes
will do; but it is make a special one for
better to
the purpose. merely a light wooden box
This is
about four inches cube, without top or bottom, but

v/ith a glass slide at the top working in saw-cuts
in the sides. About an inch below these saw-cuts,
and parallel with them, are narrow strips to support
a little feeding tray, which is about an inch and a
half wide, just long enough to fit inside the box, and
of such height that its top will come within a half
inch of the glass slide. Do not use an old cigar
box for material, since bees, like other insects, de-
test the odor of tobacco. Some boxes are made
with sliding wooden bottoms, and others are double,
hinged together, with a wooden slide between; but
the simpler one here described will do very well.
—
Bee Guides. Now, early in the morning of a
warm, still day, go where there are nectar-bearing
flowers. The place must be at least a mile, pre-
ferably two miles, away from any house where tame
bees are kept, or you will be annoyed by them. Few
bees go more than two miles from home in search of
honey.
BEE HUNTING 359
Choose an open glade or hillside, or an old field,
or a fire-burnt waste where weeds and vines have
sprung up, but free from leafy trees and shrubs, so
that you can see for a considerable distance all
around.
If bees are working here, put a little of your
honey bait in the feeding tray of your box, cautious-
ly set the box over the first bee that you find on a
flower, and close the bottom with your hand. The
bee will buzz up against the glass, and then soon
will seek the honey. Now set the box on a stump
or other elevation In the midst of a clear space.
As stumps are not always to be found where wanted,
some bee hunters carry with them a staff pointed at
one end and with a bit of shingle tacked to the other
end to serve as a platform for the box.
As soon as the bee is hard at work on the hone}'',
approach quickly and withdraw the glass slide. Dust
him slightly with flour, or put a bit of paint on his
back just large enough to be noticeable, so you can
identify him when he returns. Then withdraw to
one side, get into a comfortable reclining position,
and, if you have an opera glass, get it ready for
action.
When the bee has gorged himself he will rise
from the bait in half-circles and sudden dodges,
generally to one side of the bait, returning toward
it, and oscillating back again. He is getting his
bearings. Now he mounts higher and higher in an
increasing spiral. Then, so suddenly that it takes
good eyes or a glass to follow him, he darts off for
home. Watch him as far as you can, and note
the direction of his flight. He will not go through
woods, but over them. If he flies toward a farm-
house, pay no further attention to him, for he Is
a tame bee. In that case, go somewhere else and
begin anew. But If he goes to the big woods, look
at your watch and time his absence. You will
know him when he returns by the mark that vou
have put on him.
—
On an average, a bee flies a mile In five mlnutCrJ,
and he spends about two minutes in the hive, dis-
gorging. Bees vary In their flight, but a good
general rule is to subtract two from the number of
minutes absent, and divide by ten; the quotient Is
the number of miles, or the fraction of a mile, from
your stand to the bee-tree. The time of the bee's
second flight will be a more reliable datum than
that of the first, because by that time he will have
established his bearings and will go straight to and
fro.
The pioneer bee will probably come back alone
from his first trip. Let him fill up and depart as
before; but now watch the course of his flight very
closely, for it will be a "bee-line" for home. His
course wîll be slightly sinuous, but Its general direc-
tion will be straight for the hive, unless the ground
is so rough as to cause contrary air currents. In
which case he will seek the lee of woods or the

shelter of a ravine, or unless there Is a lake or large
pond In the way, which he probably will sway
—
around for some reason known only to them-
selves, bees dislike to pass over a body of water
so a bee-line Is not necessarily a straight line. Pick
out some tall or peculiarly topped tree, or other
prominent object in line with his course, take Its
bearings by compass, and study It carefully, so that
50U may recognize this landmark thereafter.
After two or three trips, your first bee probably
will bring some companions with him from the home
hive. Capture several more bees, say half a dozen,
mark them, and let them go as before. If they
all go In the same direction they belong to the same
hive. But you may get two or more lines working
from the same bait, in which case select the more
numerous one, as it is likely to be nearest.
—
Cross-lining. ^When once you get a line of
bees working back and forth It is time to bestir
yourself. Now you can choose between two schools
of bee hunters: those who cross-line from the start,
and those who claim that this is a waste of time
BEE HUNTING 361
and that no cross-lining should be attempted until
the hunter has passed beyond the treasure tree and
finds the bees back-tracking. I incline to the
latter school; but I will describe the working meth-
ods of both.
To cross-line at the start; leave some bait at
jT>ur first stand, take your box, capture a number
of bees, cover the top and bottom of the box, to
exclude light and thus keep them quiet, and go
away at a right angle to the bee-line, about 200
or 300 yards. Here set down your box, uncover,
but do not open the top; leave the box alone for a
minute or two until the bees recover from their
surprise and begin feeding; then liberate them, and
note their course as before. This gives you the
base of a triangle, the apex of which, where the
two lines of flight converge, is near the hollow tree
that contains the wild bees' hoard. H
you do not
see where the lines meet, the hive is beyond your
present range of vision.
Whether you do this or not, as soon as you can
follow the line for a considerable distance, clean
the feeding tray, capture a number of bees in the
box, and take it with 5ôu as far as you are sure
of the course. Then put a little more honey-water
in the feeder, and start your bees again. Thus
work progressively toward the goal.
—
Hives. Sometimes the kind of tree that the
hive is in can be foretold from the color of the
insects themselves, which is modified, after a few
months' residence, by the nature of the timber light:
colored bees in pine, poplar, chestnut; darker ones

in oak, beech, maple. But it is not likely that
you will find the hive by merely following the bee-
line and examining" such or such trees along the
way. Look for an old squirrel hjole or knot-hole
where the bees fly in and out.
Not
infrequently bee hives are in rock crevices^
I remember a hive that was well known for years
to nearly everybody in that part of the coun*
try, but which had never been disturbed, be-
cause it was deep in the cranny of a big rock ledge
that overhung the public road.
Occasionally a hive is found in a fallen tree
or in an old stump, but this is exceptional. Bees
have trouble enough, as it is, from squirrels, 'coons,
bears, and other climbing marauders, to say noth-
ing of men.
In searching, it is well to remember that bee-
trees seldom are found far from water.
Back-tracking. — If the bees thatyou liberate
finally turn back on the course, or they do not
if
return to the bait, it shows that you have passed

the hive and must "back-track." Then make two
stands close together, only 50 to 100 yards apart,
Iming them carefully. You may now have two
squads of bees flying from opposite directions into
the tree. If this fails, take a stand 50 yards off
to one side (the distance depends upon how thick
the woods are), and examine every tree in the
neighborhood with keen scrutiny. Pour out a
liberal amount of feed, so as to get a large num-
ber of bees at work. If still you do not find the
bee-tree, try again in this place a day of two later,
or whenever the weather is favorable.
Marking the Tree. — In settled regions,
where statute-law prevails, a hive of bees in a
tree belongs to the owner of the soil, unless a former
owner proves and reclaims them. In the wilder-
ness, by law of the woods, ownership is to the first
comer who makes a blaze on the bark and cuts or
pencils his initials on it. Anyone else meddling with
the treasure, unless it be claimed in time by the
owner of the land himself, is a trespasser, like the
interloper who sets traps along another trapper's
line.
Having found a bee-tree, and marked it, then,
unless you are very well acquainted with the woods,
mark your trail outward with bush-signs; otherwise
you may easily miss it on jôur return.
—
Robbing the Hive. Now you are ready to
declare war. Men who have had much experience
BEE HUNTING 363
Wth bees disdain to wear armor; but I would not
advise a novice to emulate their boldness. Get a
broad-brimmed nat, say a farmer's straw hat, and
fasten to it a head-net of mosquito bar long enough
to come wêll down over the shoulders. pair of A
long gloves or gauntlets is needed. Cut two sticks
five or six feet long, and bind to one end of each
a ball of cotton about as large as a hen's egg. Soak
these cotton balls in melted sulphur. Get a sharp
axe, and some pails to receive the honey; also a
lantern, for your burglarizing is to be done at
night. If you are not a good axeman, take with
you a man who is.
When you reach the tree, decide which way it

should be thrown, and attack it on that side. The
bees will not disturb a man w^hile he is felling the
tree, as they do not realize w^hat is going on.
When the tree is almost ready to fall, put on your
mask and gloves. Button the former under your
coat, or draw it under your suspenders. Tie your
trousers round the ankles, and the gauntlets round
your wrists.
A companion should light one of the sulphur
balls and have it ready; if the tree is hollow at the
butt, he should light both balls. When the tree
falls he must quickly apply one of the burning
sticks to the bees' doorway, and the other to the
hole in the butt. If there is one. The fumes will
stupify the now angry insects or at least enough
oi them to make
the work easier.
Chop the tree until you have located the
into
honey. It is now that the fun begins, for the
bees understand by this time that they are being
robbed, and the able-bodied ones will pounce upon
the offenders, perhaps rushing upon the axeman
m a mass so thick that he cannot see through his
veil and must brush the fierce little warriors away.
On a cold night they will be less active than if
the weather warm.

is
Having found the honey, cut through the trun^

\)oth above and below it, split out the slab, and
thus expose the hoard, being careful not to "bleed"
the comb. The
bees will now stop fighting and
will bend every energy to the work of carrying
away all of the honey that they can, storing it in
some hastily chosen retreat. You now may help
yourself without fear of renewed attack.
Backwoodsmen, when they have no sulphur, use
a smudge of punky wood, the acrid smoke of which
suffocates the bees or renders them helpless for the
time. They take the punk from a log or stump
that isrotten enough to break easily in the hands
and dry it near the fire. It will not blaze, but
neither will it go out. It burns slowly and will
give out a dense smoke for several hours. Of
course, it kills many bees, and such a method should
never be employed except in the far-back wilder-
ness when there is downright need of something
to take the place of sugar. Woodsmen who have
no mosquito netting sometimes smear themselves
with tobacco juice, or with water in which tobacco
stems have been steeped, to protect them against
stings. In any case they take chances boldly. Bees
respect courage, but are quick to detect a wincing
timidity and give it its deserts.
If, in spite of precautions, you are stung, apply
some honey to the spot. Wet clay, oil of sassafras,
ammonia, or onion juice, will relieve the pain and
swelling; but honey is at hand, and it is about as
good a remedy as any.
If you wish to capture the bees themselves, fix
the broodcombs (those containing pollen or "bee-
bread") the right distance apart in a bucket or
basket, and set this to one side. The bees will
collectabout them, after their panic is over, and
the next evening, when darkness begins to fall,
they may be carried home. There are better
ways, described in bee-keeping books, but they call
for special appliances.
Honey. —^The amount of honey in a tree may
vary from almost nothing- to 100 pounds or more.
There is record of 264 pounds being taken from
BEE HUNTING 3b,
one tree. Bees work with great zeal where there
is a good supply of nectar, and will fill a hive in a
short time.
Basswood bloom may be placed at the head of
honey-producing plants. The apiarist, Root, says
that during a period of t^venty-t^vo years he never
knew basswood to fail to yield nectar, the shortest
season yielding for three days, and the longest
twenty-nine. In one of his hives the bees stored 66
pounds of basswood honey in three days. Ten
pounds a day was the best recorded from clover.
John Burroughs has stated that there is no dif-
ference in flavor between wild honey and tame. Of
course there is no difference in regions where wild
and tame bees gather nectar from the same sources;
but in the wilderness, where bees can forage only
on the blossoms of wild plants and trees, with no
access to fields and orchards, the honey has a distinct
flavor, or flavors, of its own, as different from that
of commercial honey as the flavor of pure, old-
fashioned maple sugar is from that of the modern
adulterated or "refined" article. To my taste, the
honey of the wilderness is as much to be preferred
as is the honest, kettle-boiled sugar of "the bush."
The bouquet of honey varies, of course, according
to the kind of nectar gathered by its makers. The
minty flavor of the linden is quite distinct from sour-
wood. Anyone can tell buckwheat honey from
that which comes from the clover field. As a rule,
wild honey has a pungent taste, not so cloyingly
sweet as tame honey, and nearly always it is darker
colored, even if the hive is new.
Honey gathered from the bloom of rhododendron

or mountain laurel, or from the catalpa or catawba
tiees, is more or less poisonous to human beings.
Root says that it causes symptoms similar to those
exhibited by men who are dead drunk; or, in less
violent cases, a tingling all over, indistinct vision
(caused by dilation of the pupils), an empty, dizzy
feeling of the head ,and an intense nausea that is
not relieved by vomiting. The effects may not wear
off for two or three days. We recall that the
Ten Thousand of Xenophon were made by laurel
ill
honey. However, I doubt if anywhere in the world

there is a more luxuriant bloom of laurel and of
rhododendron than where I live in the Great Smoky
Mountains, and yet I have not heard of a single
case of poisoned honey in this region. Doubtless
this is due to the profusion of other nectar-bearing
trees and plants. Bees will not work on laurel
when there is plenty of basswood and tulip and sour-
wood, which bloom in the same months.
Beeswax. —^Wax is commodity in the
a valuable
backwoods. To prepare it, break up the honey-
comb, press out the honey, then boil the comb until
melted in a small quantity of water, squeeze it
through coarsely woven cloth, and cool it in molds.
—
The Sport of Bee Hunting. ^There is an ele-
ment of luck in bee hunting, and a spice of small
adventure, that entitle it to rank among field sports.
One must match his wits against the superior agil-
ity of the game he must keep his eyes skinned, fol-
;
low a long chase, and risk the stings of conflict

if he would enjoy the sweets of victory.
The most unlucky thing that can happen is to
spend half a day pursuing bees and then line them
up in some farmer's hives. As Robinson's **Uncle
Jerry" said: 'Tve lined bees nigh onto three mile,
an' when a feller 's done that, an' fetches up agin
a tame swarm in someb'dy's do' jârd, it makes him
feel kinder wamble-cropped."
CHAPTER XXI
EDIBLE PLANTS OF THE WILDERNESS
There is a popular notion that our Indians in
olden times varied their meat diet with nothing but
wild roots and herbs. This, in fact, was the case
only among those tribes that pursued a roving life
and had no settled abodes, such as the "horse Ind-
ians" and "diggers" of the Far West —
and not all
of them. The "forest Indians" east of the Missis-
sippi and south of the Great Lakes, particularly
such nations as the Iroquois and Cherokees, lived in
villagesand cultivated corn, beans, squashes, pump-
kins,and tobacco. Still, wild plants and roots often
were used by these semi-agricultural peoples, in the
same way that garden vegetables are used by us, and,
in time of famine, or invasion, they were sometimes
almost the sole means of sustenance.
To-day, although our wild lands, such as are
left, produce all the native plants that were known
to the redmen, there is probably not one white hunt-
ter or forester in a thousand who can* pick out half
of the edible plants of the wilderness, nor who would
know how to cook them if such were given to him.
Nor are many of our botanists better informed.
Now it is quite as important, in many cases, ta
know how to cook a wîld plant as it is to be able to
find it, for, otherwise, one might make as serious a
mistake as If he ate the vine of a potato Instead of
its tuber, or a tomato vine instead of the fruit.
Take, for example, the cassava or manioc, which is

still the staple food of most of the inhabitants of
tropical America and is largely used elsewhere. The

root of the bitter manioc, which is used with the
same impunity as other species, contains a milky sap
367
that is charged with prussic acid and is one of the
most virulent vegetable poisons known to science.
The Indians somehow discovered that this sap is
volatile and can be driven off by heat. The root is
cleaned, sliced, dried on hot metal plates or stones,
grated, powdered, the starch separated from the
meal, and the result is the tapioca of commerce, or
farina, or Brazilian arrowroot, as may be, which we
ourselves eat, and feed to our children and invalids,
not knowing, perchance, that if it had not been for
the art of a red savage, the stuff taken into our
stomachs would have caused sudden death.
Another example, not of a poisonous but of an
extremely acrid root the Indians used for
that
bread, and which of delicious flavor when
really is
rightly prepared, in the common Indian turnip.

Every country schoolboy thinks he knows all about
this innocent looking bulb. He remembers when
some older boy grudgingly allowed him the tiniest
nibble of this sacred vegetable, and how he, the
recipent of the favor, started to say **Huh! 'tain't
—
bad" and then concluded his remark with what we
good, grown-up people utter when we jab the black-
ink pen into the red-ink bottle!
Howêver, not all of our wild food-plants are
acrid or poisonous in a raw state, nor is it danger-
ous for any one with a rudimentary knowledge of
botany to experiment with them. Many are easily
identified by those who know nothing at all of bot-
any. I cannot say that all of them are palatable;
but most of them are, when properly prepared for
the table. Their taste in a raw state, generally
speaking, is no more a criterion than is that of raw
beans or asparagus.
It goes without saying that this chapter and the
one that follows are not written for average camp-
ers —townfolk mostly, who know
almost nothing
about our wnld flora. more daring
They are for the
sort who go far from the beaten trail, fend for
themselves, and owe it to themselves to study mat-
ters of this kind before venturing into inhospitable
EDIBLE PLANTS 369
regions. I have in mind more than one example of
extreme suffering, and even of tragedy, that might
have been averted by such precaution. Besides,
there is a great number of people on this continent
who spend a good part of their lives far back in the
woods, where cultivated vegetables are hard to get.
Having myself "lived the life," I know how insis-
tent grows the craving for green stuff to vary the
monotonous diet, and how profitable as well as
pleasant is a little amateur botanizing with a pocket
guide, such as Schuyler Mathews's Field Book of
American Wild Flowers^ which suffices to identify
most of the plants on the foj lowing lists.
I have been much amused, by way of variety, at
the attitude of a few skeptics who seem to doubt
that the writer knows what he is talking about.
One of my correspondents even wrote to inquire
whether I "had any personal experience in eating
^,ny of these plants !" suppose he inferred from my
I
citations of authorities hereand there that the whole
thing was cribbed. It is not fashionable nowadays,
I know, for writers who seek popularity to quote
directly from others, or even to acknowledge in-
debtedness for ideas that they appropriate through
paraphrasis. However, I am old-fashioned enough
to give credit where credit Is due, whenever I can
identify the one from whom I first got a fact or
idea that to me was new. In the following cata-
logue my citation of an authority does not mean,
then, that I have not tried the thing for myself, al-
though in some cases that is so. During the years
that have lived in the woods I have tested a
I
great variety of wild "roots and yarbs" —
tried them
in my own stomach; otherwise I would not have
written a line on the subject. Here is a rather
odd example, taken from my notebook under date of
Pvlay 10, 1 9 10, at which time I was boarding with
a native family on upper Deep Creek, Swain Coun-
ty, North Carolina:
Mrs. Barnett to-day cooked us a mess of green's
of her own picking. It was an olla podrida consist-
ing of (1) lamb's quarters, (2) poke shoots, (3)
sheep sorrel, (4) dock, (5) plantain, (6) young tops
of "volunteer" potatoes, (7) wild mustard, (8) cow
pepper. All of these ingredients were boiled to-
gether in the same pot, with a slice of pork, and the
resulting "wild salat," as she called it, was good.
This is the first time I ever heard of anyone eating
potato tops; but a hearty trial of them has proved
that the tops of young Irish potatoes, like the young
shoots of poke, are wholesome and of good flavor,
whereas it is well kno»wn that the mature tops of
both plants are poisonous.
I am told that the young leaves of sweet potato

vines *'make an excellent spinach."
To give a detailed account of all the edible wild
plants of the United States and Canada, with de-
scriptions and illustrations sufficing to identify them,
would require by itself a book as large as this. 1
have only space to give the names and edible prop-
erties of those that I know of which are native
to, or, as wild plants, have become naturalized in
the region north of the southern boundary of Vir-
ginia and east of the Rocky Mountains. Besides
those mentioned below, there are others which grow
only in the southern or western states, among the
more Important being the palmetto, palm, yam,
cacti, Spanish bayonet, mesquite, wild sago or coon-
tie, tule plant, western camass, kouse root, bread
root,screw bean, pimple mallow, manzafilta, pinons,

jumper nuts, many pine seeds, squaw berry, lyclum
—
berry but the list Is long enough. Those who wish
further details should examine the publications of
the U. S. Department of Agriculture, and especially
those of one of Its officers, Mr. F. V. Covllle, who
has made special studies In this subject.
I have given the botanical name of every plant
cited herein, because without it there would be
no guarantee of Identification. The nomenclature
adopted is that ot Britton and Brown In their
Illustrated Flora of the Northern States and Can"
dda (Scrlbner's Sons, New York), which, as it con-
EDIBLE PLAINTS 371
tainsan Illustration of every plant, Is of the first

assistance to anamateur in identifying. Wherever
Gray's nomenclature differs, it is added in parenthe-
ses.
The months named under each plant are those In
which it the earlier month In each case
flowers,
being the flowering month In the plant's southern-
most range, and the later one that of the northern-
most. In the case of wild fruits, the months are
those in which the fruit ripens.
It is necessary to remember that most of the
edible plants become tough and bitter when they
have reached full bloom.
SUBSTANTIAL FOODS
Acorns. —The eastern oaks that yield sweet
mast are the basket, black jack, bur, chestnut, over-
cup, post, rock chestnut, scrub chestnut, swamp
white, and white oaks, the acorns of chestnut and
post oaks being sweetest; those producing* bitter
mast are the black, pin, red, scarlet, shingle, Spanish,
water, and willow oaks; of which the black and
water oak acorns are most astringent.
None of these can be used raw, as human food,
without more or less ill effect from the tannin con-
tained. But there are tribes of western Indian,
who extract the tannin from even the most as-
tringent acorns and make bread out of their flour.
The process varies somew^hat among different tribes,
but essentially it as as follows:
The acorns are collected when ripe, spread out
to dry in the sun, cracked, and stored until the ker-
nels are dry, care being taken that they do not mold.
The kernels are then pulverized in a mortar to a
fine meal, with frequent siftlngs to remove the
coarser particles, until the w^hole Is ground to a fine
flour, this being essential. The tannin Is then dis'
solved out by placing the flour In a filter and let-
ting water percolate through It for about two
hours, or until the water ceases to have a yellowish
tinge. One form of filter is contrived by laying
a coarse, flat basket or straineron a pile of gravel
with a drain underneath. Rather fine gravel is now
scattered thickly over the bottom and up the sides
of the strainer, and the meal laid thickly over the
gravel. Water is added, little by little, to set free
the tannin. The meal is removed by hand as much
as possible, then water is poured over the remainder
to get it together, and thus little is wasted. The
meal by this time has the consistency of ordinary
dough.
The dough Is cooked Is two ways: first, by boiling
it in water as we do corn-meal mush, the resulting
porridge being not unlike yellow corn-meal mush

in appearance and taste it is sweet and wholesome,
;
but rather Insipid. The second mode Is to make

the dough Into small balls, which are wrapped In
green corn leaves. These balls are then placed in
hot ashes, some green leaves of corn are laid over
them, and hot ashes are placed on the top, and the
cakes are thus baked.
(Covllle, Contrib. to U. S. Herbarium, VII. No.
—
3. Palmer, In Amer, Naturalist, XII, 597. Another
method, used by the Porno Indians, who add 5 per
cent, of red earth to the dough, is described by
J. W. Hudson In the Amer. Anthropologist^ 1900,
pp. 775-6-)
Nuts. —Among the Cherokees, and also in Italy
and In Tyrol, I have eaten bread made from chest-
nuts. The Cherokee method, when they have corn
also. Is to use the chestnuts whole, mixing them with
enough corn-meal dough to hold them together, and
then baking cakes of this material enclosed In corn
husks, like tamales. The peasants of southern
Europe make bread from the meal of chestnuts
alone —the European chestnut, of course,^ be-
large
ing used. Such bread Is palatable and nutritious,
but lies heavily on one's stomach until he becomes
accustomed to it.
:
EDIBLE PLANTS 373

Our Indians also have made bread from the
kernels of buckeyes. These, in a raw state, are
poisonous, but when dried, powdered, and freed
from their poison by filtration, like acorns, they
yield an edible and nutritious flour. The method
is first to toiist the nuts, then hull and peel them,
mash them in a basket with a billet, and then leach

them. The resulting paste may be baked, or eaten
cold.
Hazel nuts, beech nuts, pecans, and wankapins
may be used like chestnuts. The oil expressed
from beech nuts is little inferior to the best olive
oil for table use, and will keep sweet for ten years.
The oil from butternuts and black walnuts used to
be highly esteemed by the eastern Indians either
to mix with their food, or as a frying fat. They
pounded the ripe kernels, boiled them in water,
and skimmed oH the oil using the remaining paste
as bread. Hickory nut oil was easily obtained by
crushing the whole nuts, precipitating the broken
shells in water, and skimming off the oily "milk,"
which was used as we use cream or butter. The
nut of the Ironwood (blue beech) Is edible.
The kernel of the long-leaved pine cone is edible
and of an agreeable taste. Many western pines
have edible "nuts." The acridity of pine seeds
can be removed by roasting.
KIND Protein Fat

per ct. per ct.
Beechnut 21.8
Butternut 27.9
Chestnut, dry ..10.7
Hickory nut .... 15.4
Peanut 29.8
Pecan 12.1
Pine nut, Pinon 14.6
Walnut 18,2
By comparison
Beef, r'd steak .19.8
White bread.... 9.2
All nuts are more digestible when roasted than
when eaten raw.
Arrowhead^ Broad-leaved. Swan or Swamp
Potato. Sagittaria latifolia {S. variabilis). In
shallow water; ditches. Throughout North Amer-
ica, except extreme north, to Mexico. July-Sep.
Tuberous roots as large as hens' eggs, were an
important article of food among Indians. Roots
bitter when raw, but rendered sweet and palatable
by boiling. Excellent when cooked with meat.
Indians gather them by wading and loosening roots
with their feet, when the tubers float up and are
gathered. Leaves acrid.
Arum, Green Arrow. Peltandra Virginica (P.
undulata. Arum Virginiciim) Swamp or shallow
.
water. Me. and Ont. to Mich., south to Fla, and

La. May-June.
Rootstock used by eastern Indians for food, under
the name of Taw-ho. Roots very large; acrid
when fresh. The method of cooking this root, and
that of the Golden Club, is thus described by Cap-
tain John Smith in his Historic of Virginia (1624),
p. 87 "The chiefe root they haue for food is called
:
Tockawhoughe. It groweth like a flagge in Marishes.

In one day a Salvage will gather sufficient for a
week. These roots are much of the greatnesse and
taste of Potatoes. They vse to cover a great many
of them with Oke leaues and Feme, and then cover
all with earth in the manner of a Cole-pit [char-
coal pit] over it, on each side, they continue a great
;
fire 24 houres before they dare eat it. Raw it is

no better than poyson, and being roasted, except
it be tender and the heat abated, or sliced and dryed
in the Sunne, mixed with sorrell and meale or such
like, it will prickle and torment the throat ex-
treamely, and yet in sommer they vse this ordinarily
for bread."
Arum, Water. Wild Calla. Calla paUustris.
Cold bogs. Nova Scotia to Minn., south to Va.,
Wis., Iowa. May-June.
"Missen bread is made in Lapland from roots
EDIBLE PLANTS 375
of this plant, which are acrid when raw. They are
taken up in spring when the leaves come forth, are
extremely well washed, and then dried. The fib-
rous parts are removed, and the remainder dried
in an oven. This is then bruised and chopped into
pieces as small as peas or oatmeal, and then ground.
The meal is boiled slowly, and continually stirred
like mush. is then left standing for three or four
It
days, when the acridity disappears." (Lankester.)
Broom-Rape^ Louisiana. Orobanche Ludovi-
ciana {Aphyllon L.). Sandy soil. 111. to Mani-
toba, south to Texas, Ariz., Cal. June-Aug.
"All the plant except the bloom grows under
ground, and consequently nearly all is very white
and succulent. The Pah Utes consume great num-
bers of them in summer. .Being succulent
. .
they answer for food and drink on these sandy plains,

and, indeed, are often called sand-food." (Palmer.)
Bulrush^ Great. Mat-rush. Tule-root. Scir-
pus lacustris. Ponds and swamps. Throughout
North America: also in Old World. June-Sep.
Roots resemble artichokes, but are much larger.
Eaten raw, they prevent thirst and afford nourish-
ment. Flour made from the dried root is w^hite,
sweet and nutritious. A great favorite with
the western Indians, who pound the roots and make
bread of them. When the fresh roots are bruised,
mixed with water, and boiled, they afford a good
sirup.
Camass^ Eastern. Wild Hyacinth. Quamasia
hyacyiithia {Camassia Fraseri). In meadows and
along streams. Pa. to Minn., south to Ala. and
Texas. Apr. -May.
Root is very 'nutritious, wath an agreeable mucil-
aginous taste.
Golden Club. Orontium aquatkum. Swamps
and ponds. Mass. to Pa., south to Fla. and La.,
mostlv near coast. Apr.-May.
The Taw-kee of coast Indians who liked the
dried seeds when cooked The_ raw root
like peas.
is acrid, but becomes edible when cooked like arrow-
arum
Grass^ Drop-seed^ Sand Drop-seed. Spor-
obolus cryptandrus. Also Barnyard or Cockspur
Grass {Panicum Crusgalli).
When the seeds, which are gathered in great
quantities by western Indians, are parched, ground,
mixed with water or milk and baked or made into
mush, they are of good flavor and nutritious. Also
eaten dry.
GrasSj Panic. Panicum, several species.
The ripe seeds are collected, like the above, cleaned
by winnowing, ground into flour, water added and
the mass is kneaded into hard cakes, which, when
dried in the sun are ready for use. Also made into
gruel and mush.
Grass^ Floating Manna Panicularia fluitans
(Glyceria fL).
The seeds are of agreeable flavor and highly nu-
tritious material for soups and gruels.
Greenbrier^ Bristly. Stretch-berry. Sinilax
Bona-nox. Thickets. Mass. and Kansas, south to
Fla. and Texas. Apr-July.
The large, tuberous rootstocks are said to have
been used by the Indians, who ground them into
meal and made bread or gruel of it.
In the South a drink is made from them.
Greenbrier^ Long-Stalked. Smilax Pseudo-
China. Dry or sandy thickets. Md. to Neb.,
south to Fla. and Texas. March-Aug.
Bartram says that the Florida Indians prepared
from this plant "a very agreeable, cooling sort of
jelly, which they call conte [not to be confounded
with coontie or wild sago] this is prepared from

;
the root of the China brier (Smilax Pseudo-China)

.. They chop the roots in pieces which are after-
wards well pounded in a wooden mortar, then be-
ing mixed with clean water, in a tray or trough, they
strain it through baskets. The sediment, which
settles to the bottom of the second vessel, Is after-
wards dried in the open air, and is then a very fine
reddish flour or meal. A small quantity of this,
mixed with warm water and sweetened with honey,
EDIBLE PLANTS 377
when becomes a beautiful, delicious jelly, very
cool,
nourishing and wholesome. They also mix it with
fine corn flour, which being fried in fresh bear's oil
makes very good hot cakes or fritters."
Ground-Nut. Wild Bean. Indian Potato.
Aplos Apios {A. tuberosa). Moist ground. New
Bruns. to Fla., west to Minn, and Kan., south to
La. July-Sep.
This is the famous hopniss of New
Jersey Indians,
the saagaban of the Micmacs, openauk of Virginia
tribes, scherzo of the Carolinas, taux of the Osages,
and 7JLodo of the Sioux, under one or other of which
names frequently met by students of our early
it is
annals. "In 1654 the town laws of Southampton,

Mass., ordained that if an Indian dug ground-nuts
on land occupied by the English, he was to be set
in the stocks, and for a second offence, to be whip-
ped." The Pilgrims, during their first winter, lived
on these roots.
The tubers vary from the size of cherries to that
of a hen's egg, or larger. They grow in strings
of perhaps 40 together, resembling common potatoes
in shape, taste, and odor. When boiled they are
quite palatable and wholesome. The seeds in the
pod can be prepared like common peas.
Indian Turnip. Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Arisaema
tiiphyllum (Aru/n trlphyllmn) . Moist woods and
thickets. Nova Scotia to Florida, west to Minn.,
Kan., La. April-June. Fruit ripe, June-July.
The root of this plant is so acrid when raw that,
if one but touch the tip of his tongue to it, in a
few seconds that unlucky member will sting as if

touched to a nettle. Yet it was a favorite bread-
root of the Indians. I have found bulbs as much
as II inches in circumference and weighing half
a pound.
Some writers state that the acridity of the root
is destroyed by boiling, while others recommend bak-
ing. Neither alone will do. The bulb may be

boiled for two hours, or baked as long, and, while
the outer portion will have a characteristically
pleasant flavor, half potato, half chestnut, the In-
ner part will still be as uneatable as a spoonful of red
pepper. The root should either be roasted or boiled,
then peeled, dried, and pounded in a mortar, or
otherwise reduced to flour. Then if it is heated
again, or let stand for a day or two, it becomes
bland and wholesome, having been reduced to a
starchy substance resembling arrowroot. Even if
the fresh root is only grated finely and let stand ex-
posed to air until it is thoroughly dry, the acridity
will have evaporated with the juice.
The roots may be preserved for a year by storing
in damp sand.
It is said that the Indians also cooked and ate
the berries.
LiLYj Turk^S-Cap. Lilium superbum. Mead-
ows and marshes. Me. to Minn., south to N. C.
and Tenn. July-Aug.
LiLY^ Wild Yellow. Canada Lily. Lilium
Canadense. Swamps, meadows and fields. Nova
Scotia to Minn., south to Ga., Ala., Mo., June'
July.
"Both of these have fleshy, edible bulbs.
lilies
When green they look and taste somewhat like raw

green corn on the ear. The Indians use them, in-
stead of flour, to thicken stews, etc." (Thoreau.)
LiLY^ Yellow Pond. Spatter-dock. Nymphaea
advena {Nuphar ad,). Ponds and slow streams.
Nova Rocky Mts., south
Scotia to to Fla., Texas,
Utah. Apr.Sep.
The roots, w^hich are one or two feet long, grow
four or five feet under water, and Indian women
dive for them. They are very porous, slightly
sweet, and glutinous. Generally boiled with wild
fowl, but often roasted separately. Muskrats store
large quantities for winter use, and their houses
are frequently robbed by the Indians. The pulver-
ized seeds of the plant are made into bread or gruel,
or parched and eaten like popcorn.
Nelumbo, American. Wankapin or Yoncopln.
Water Chinquapin. Nelumbo lutea. Ponds and
EDIBLE PLANTS 379
swamps. Locally east from Ontario to Fla., abund-
ant west to Mich., Okla., La. J uly-Aug.
Tubers of root somewhat resemble sweet pota-
toes, and are little inferior to them when well boiled.
A highly prized food of the Indians. The green
and succulent half-ripe seed-pods are delicate and
nutritious. From the sweet, mealy seeds, which
resemble hazel nuts, the Indians made bread, soups,
etc. The *'nuts" were steeped in water, and
first
then parched in sand to easily extricate the kernels.
These were mixed with fat and made into a palat-
able soup, or wêre ground into flour and baked.
Frequently they were parched without steeping, and
the kernels eaten thus.
Orchis^ Showy. Orchis spectabilis. Rich
woods. New Brunsw. to Minn,, south to Ga.,
Ky., Neb. Apr.-June.
"One of the orchids that springs from a tuberous
root, and as such finds favor with the country
people [of the South] in the preparation of a highly
nourishing food for children." (Lounsberry.)
Peanut^ Hog. Wild peanut. Falcata comosa
(Glycine comosa). Moist thickets. New Brunsw.
to Fla., west to Lake Superior, Neb., La. Aug-Sep.
"The underground pod has been cultivated as a
vegetable." (Porcher.)
Potato^ Prairibi. Prairie turnip. Indian or
Missouri Breadroot. The pomme blanche of the
voyageurs. Psoralea Esculenta. Prairies. Mani-
toba and N. Dak. to Texas. June,
The farinaceous tuber, generally the size of a
hen's egg, has a thick, leathery envelope, easily ^
separable from the smooth internal parts, which be-

come friable when dry and are readily pulverized, af-
fording a light, starchy flour, with sweetish, turnip-
like taste. Often sliced and dried by the Indians
for winter use. Palatable in any form.
Rice, Wild. Zizania aquatica. Swamps. New
Brunsw. to Manitoba, south to Fla., La., Texas.
June-Oct.
The chief farinaceous food of probably 30,000 of
our northern Indians, and now on the market as
a breakfast food. The harvesting is usually done
b)' two persons working together, one propelling
the canoe, and the oae in the stern gently pulling

the plants over the canoe and beating oil the ripe
seed with two sticks. The seed, when gathered, is
spread out for a few hours to dry, and is then
parched in a kettle over a slow fire for half an hour
to an hour, meanwhile being evenly and constantly
stirred. It is then spread out to cool. After thiij^
it is hulled by putting* about a bushel of the seed
into a hole in the ground, lined with staves or burnt

clay, and beating or punching it with heavy sticks.
The grains and hulls are separated by tossing the
mixture into the wind from baskets. The grain
will keep indefinitely.
Before cooking, it should have several washings
in cold water to remove the smoky taste. It is
cooked with game, or as gruel (boil 35 minutes),
or made into bread, or merely eaten dry. Its food
value is equal to that of our common cereals. **An
acre of rice is nearly or quite equal to an acre of
wheat in nutriment." (For details see Bulletin
No. 50 of the Bureau of Plant Industry, U. S.
Dep't. of Agriculture.)
SiLVERWEED. Wild or Goose Tansy. Goose^
grass. Potentilla Anserina. Shores and salt
meadows, marshes and river banks. Greenland to
N J., west to Neb.; Alaska, south along Rocky
Mts. to N. Mex. and Cal. May Sep.
Roots gathered in spring and eaten either raw or
roasted. Starchy and wholesome. When roasted
or boiled their taste resembles chestnuts.
Sunflower. Helianthus, many species. Prairies,
etc. July-Sep. "The seeds of these plants form
one of the staple articles of food for manv Indians,
and they gather them in great quantities. The agree-
able oily nature of the seeds renders them very
palatable. When parched and ground they are
highly prized, and are eaten on hunting excursions.
The m.eal or flour is also made into thin cakes and
EDIBLE PLANTS 381
baked in hot ashes. These cakes are of a gray color,
rather coarse looking, but palatable and very nutri-
tious. Having eaten of the bread made from sun-
flowers, I must say that it is as good as much of the
corn bread eaten by whites." (Palmer.)
The oil expressed from sunflower seeds is a good
substitute for olive oil.
Valerian, Edible. Tobacco-root. Valeriana
edulis. Wetopen places. Ontario to B. C, south
to O., Wis., and in Rocky Mts. to N. Mex and
Ariz. May-Aug.
"I ate here, for the first time, the kooyah or to-
bacco-root (Valeriana edulis) ^the principal edible
root among the Indians who inhabit the upper waters
of the streams on the western side of the [Rocky]
mountains. It has a very strong and remarkably
peculiar taste and odor, which I can compare to
no other vegetable that I am acquainted with, and
which to some persons is extremely offensive. To
. .
others, however, the taste is rather an agreeable one,

and I was afterwards always glad when it formed
an addition to our scanty meals. It is full of nutri-
ment. In its unprepared state it is said by the
Indians to have very strong poisonous qualities, of
which it is deprived by a peculiar process, being
baked in the ground for about two days." (Fre-
mont, Exploring Expedition, 1845, p. 1 35-)
POT-HERBS AND SALADS
All of the plants hitherto mentioned are native to
the regions described. In the following list will be
found many that are introduced wêeds; but a con-
siderable proportion of these foundlings may now
be seen in clearings and old burnt tracts in the
woods, far from regular settlements. Directions for
cooking greens are given in Vol. I., pp. 369-371.
Adder's-Tongue, Yellow. Dog's-tooth Violet.
Erythronium Americamim. Moist woods and thick-
ets. Nova Scotia to Minn., south to Fla., Mo., Ark.
Mar, -May.
Sometimes used for greens.
Bean, Wild Kidney. Phaseolus f>olysiachyus
(P. perennis). Thickets. Canada to Fl?.., west
to Minn., Neb., La. July-Sep.
Was used as food by the Indians; the Apaches eat
it either green or dried.
Bellwort. Uviilaria perfoliata. Moist woods
and thickets. Quebec and Ont. to Fla. and Miss.
May-June.
"The roots of this and other species of Uvularia
are edible when cooked, and the young shoots are a
good substitute for asparagus." (Porcher.)
Brooklime^ American. Veronica Americana,
Brooks and swamps. Anticosti to Alaska, south to
Pa., Neb., N. Mex., Cal. Apr-Sep.
''A salad plant equal to the watercress. Delight-
ful in flavor, healthful, anti-scorbutic." {Sci. Amer.)
Burdock, Great. Cockle-bur. Arctium Lappa,
Waste places. New Brunsw. to southern N. Y.,
and locally in the interior. Not nearly so widely
distributed as the smaller common burdock (A,
minus). July-Oct.
A naturalized weed, so rank in appearance and
odor that nothing but stark necessity could have
driven people to experiment with it as a vegetable.
Yet, like the skunk cabbage, it is capable of being
turned to good account. In spring, the tender
shoots, when peeled, can be eaten raw like radishes,
or, with vinegar, can be used as a salad. The stalks
cut before the flowers open, and stripped of their
rind, form a delicate vegetable when boiled, similar
in flavor to asparagus. The raw root has medicinal
properties, but the Japanese eat the cooked root, pre-
paring it as follows: The skin is scraped or peeled
off, and the roots sliced in long strips, or cut into
pieces about two inches long", and boiled with salt
and pepper, or with soy, to impart flavor; or the
boiled root is mashed, made into cakes, and fried
like oyster plant.
Charlock. Wild Mustard. Brassica arvensis
(B. Sinapistrum) . Fields and waste places. Na-
turalized everj^where. May-Nov.
Extensively used as a pot-herb; aids digestion*
EDIBLE PLANTS 383
Chickweed. Alsine media. {Sfellaria m.).
Waste places, meadows, and woods. Naturalized;
common everywhere. Jan-Dec.
Used like spinach, and quite as good.
Chicory. Wild Succor}\ Chichorhwi Intyhus.
Roadsides, fields, and waste places. Nova Scotia
to Minn., south to N. C. and Mo. July-Oct.
All parts of the plant are wholesome. The
young kaves make a good salad, or may be cooked
as a pot-herb like dandelion. The root, ground and
roasted, is used as an adulterant of coffee.
Clover. Trifolium, many species.
The coast Indians of California use clover as a
food. The fresh leaves and stems are used, before
flowering. ''Deserves test as a salad herb, with
vinegar and salt."
CoMFREY. Symphytum officinale. Waste places,
Newf. to Minn., south to Md. Naturalized,
June-Aug.
Makes good greens when gathered young.
Cow Pea. China Bean. Vigna Sinensis,
Escaped from cultivation. Mo. to Texas and Ga.
July-Sep.
The seeds are edible.
Cow Pepper. A
plant resembling toothwort
(Dentaria diphylla) but bearing a yellow instead of
a white flower, and developing a bur. Tops used in
the southern Appalachians for salad, and the roots
as a substitute for horseradish.
Cress^ Rocket. Yellow Rocket. Bitter Cress.
Barharea Barharea {B. vulgaris). Fields and waste
places. Naturalized. Labrador to Va., and local-
ly in interior; also on Pacific coast. Apr.-June.
The young, tender leaves make a fair salad, but
inferior to the winter cress.
Cress^ Water. Roripa Nasturtium (Nasturt-
ium officinale). Brooks and other streams. Nova
Scotia to Manitoba, south to Va. and Mo. Na-
turalized from Europe. Apr.-Nov.
A well-known salad herb. The leaves and stems
are eaten raw with salt, as a relish, or mixed as
9 salad-
Cress^ Winter. Scurvy Grass. Barharea prae^
cox. Waste places, naturalized. Southern N. Y.,
Pa., and southward. Apr.-June,
Highly esteemed as a winter salad and pot-h,erb;
sometimes cultivated.
Crinkle-Root. Two-leaved Toothwort. Den-
taria diphylla. Rich woods and meadows. Nova
Scotia to Minn., south to S. Car. and Ky. May,
The rootstocks are crisp and fleshy, with a spicy
flavor like watercress. Eaten with salt, like celery.
Crowfoot^ Celery-Leaved or Ditch. Ranun-
Swamps and wet ditches, New
culus sceleratus.
Brunsw. to Fla., abundant along the coast, and lo-
cally westward to Minn. Apr.-Aug.
Porcher cites this as a good example of the des-
truction of acrid and poisonous juices by heating.
The fresh juice is so caustic that it will raise a
blister,and two drops taken internally may excite
fatal inflammation. Yet the boiled or baked root,
he says, is edible. When cleansed, scraped and
pounded, and the pulp soaked in a considerable
quantity of water, a white sediment is deposited,
which, when washed and dried, is a real starch.
Cuckoo-Flower. Meadow Bitter-cress. Card-
amine pratensis. Wet meadows and swamps. Lab-
rador to northern N. J., west to Minn, and B. C.
Apr.-May.
Has a pungent savor and is used like water cress;
occasionally cultivated as a salad plant.
Dandelion. Taraxacum Taraxacum {T. Of-
ficinale). Fields and waste places everywhere; na-
turalized. Jan.-Dec.
Common pot-herb ; also blanched for salad. In
boiling, change the water two or three times.
DocK^ Curled. Rumex Crispus. Fields and
waste places, everywhere; naturalized. June-Aug.
The young leaves make good pot-herbs. The
plant produces an abundance of seeds, which Indians
grind into flnur for bread or mush.
Ffrns. Many species.
The young stems of ferns, gathered before they
EDIBLE PLAxNTS 385
are covered with down, and before the leaves have
uncurled, are tender, and when boiled like aspara-
gus are delicious.
The rootstocks of ferns are starchy, and after be-
ing baked resemble the dough of wheat; their flavor
is not very pleasant, but they are by no means to be
despised by a hungry man.

Fetticus. Corn Salad. Valerianella Locusta.
Waste places. N. Y. to Va. and La. Naturalized.
Apr.-July.
Cultivated for salad and as a pot-herb. The
yOung leaves are very tender.
Flag, Cat-tail. Typha latifolia. Marshes.
Throughout North America except in extreme
north. June-July.
The flowering ends are very tender in the spring,
and are eaten raw, or when boiled in water make
a good soup. The root is eaten as a salad. "The
Cossacks of the Don peel oi¥ the outer cuticle of the
stalk and eat raw the tender white part of the stem
extending about 18 inches from the root. It has a
somewhat insipid, but pleasant and cooling taste.'*
Garlic, Wild or Meadow. Allium Canadense.
Moist meadows and thickets. Me. to Minn., south
to Fla., La.,Ark. May-June.
A "The top bulbs
good substitute for garlic.
common onion for pickling."
are superior to the
Ginseng, Dwarf. Ground-nut. Panax tri-
folium {Aralia trifolia). Moist woods and thick-
ets. Nova Scotia to Ga., west to Minn., Iowa, 111.
Apr.-June.
The tubers are edible and pungent.
Honewort. Deringa Cariadensis (Cryptotaenia
C). Woods. New Brunsw. to Minn., south to
Ga. and Texas. June-July.
In the spring this is a wholesome green, used in
soups, etc., like chervil.
Hop. Cannabis sativa. Waste places. New
Brunsw. to Minn., south 'to N. C, Tenn., Kansas.
Naturalized. July-Sep.
Used for yeast. "In Belgium the young shoots
;;

of the plant just as they emerge from the ground
are used as asparagus."
Indian Cucumber. Medeola Virginiana. Rich,
damp woods and thickets. Nova Scotia to Minn.,
south to Fla. and Tenn. May-June.
"The common name alludes to the succulent,
horizontal, white tuberous root, which tastes like
cucumber, and was in all probability relished by the
Indians." (Matthews.)
Jerusalem Artichoke. Canada Potato. Gira-
sole. Topinambour. Helianthus tuberosus. Moist
soil. New Brunsw. to Manitoba, south to Ga.
and Ark. ''Often occurs along roadsides in the
east, a relic of cultivation by the aborigines."
Now cultivated and for sale in our markets. The
tubers are large, and edible either raw or cooked,
tasting somewhat like celery root. They are eaten
as vegetables, and are also pickled.
Lady's Thumb. English Smartweed. Poly-
gonum Persicaria. Waste places throughout the
continent, except extreme north. Naturalized
often an abundant weed. June-Sep.
Used as an early salad plant in the southern
mountains.
Lamb's Quarters. White Pig\veed. Chen-
opodium album. Waste places, range universal,
like the above. June-Sep.
Naturalized.
A fine summer green and tender and
pot-herb,
succulent. Should be boiled about 20 minutes, the
first water being thrown away, owing to its bad
taste. The small seeds, which are not unpleasant
when eaten raw, may be dried, ground, and made
into cakes or gruel. They resemble buckwheat in
color and taste, and are equally nutritious.
Lettuce^ Spanish. Indian or Miner's Lettuce-
Claytonta perfoliata. Native of Pacific coast, but
spreading eastward. Apr.-May.
The whole planteaten by western Indians and
is
by whites. In a raw state makes an excellent salad

also cooked with salt and pepper, as greens.
Lupine, Wild. Wild Pea. Lupinus perennis.
.
EDIBLE PLANTS 387

Dry, sandy soil. Me. to Minn., south to Fla.,
Mo., La. May-Jmie.
Edible; cooked like domestic peas.
Mallow^ Marsh. Althaeea Officinalis. Salt
marshes. Mass. to N. J. Summer.
The thick, very mucilaginous root, has familiar
use as a confection also used in medicine as a demul-
;
cent. May be eaten raw.

Mallow^ Whorled or Curled. Malva verti-
cillata {M. crispa) . Waste places. Nova Scotia to
Minn., south to N. J. Naturalized. Summer.
A good pot-herb.
Marigold^ Marsh. Meadovr-gowan. Cow-
slip. Caltha palustris. Swamps and meadows.
Newfoundland to S. C, west through Canada to
Rocky Mts., and south to Iowa. Apr.-June.
Used as a spring vegetable, the young" plant be-
ing thoroughly boiled for greens. The flower buds
are sometimes pickled as a substitute for capers.
Beware of mistaking for this plant the poisonous
white hellebore (Veratrum viride)
Meadow Beauty. Deer Grass. Rhexia Virginica.
Sandy swamps. Me. to Fla., west to north N. Y.,
Ill, Mo., La. July-Sep.
The leaves have a sweetish, yet acidulous taste.
Make a good addition to a salad, and may be eaten
with impunity.
Milkweed. Asclepias Syriaca {A. Cornuti).
Fields and waste places generally. June-Aug. Also
other species.
The young shoots. In spring, are a good substitute
for asparagus. Kalm says that a good brown sugar
has been made by gathering the flowers while the
dew was on them, expressing the dew, and boiling
it down.
Mushrooms. The number of edible species Is
legion. not difficult to distinguish the poison-

It Is
ous ones, when one has studied a good text-book;

but no one should take chances with fungi until he
has made such study, for a few of the common
species are deadly, and for some of them no remedy
is known. A beginner would do well, perhaps, to
avoid all of the genus Amanita. All mushrooms on
the following list are of delicious flavor.
Coprinus comatus
Hypholoma appendiculatum
Tricholoma perso?iatum
Boletus subaureus.
Boletus bovinus
Boletus subsanguineous
Clavaria hotrytes
C lav ana cinerea
Clavaj'ia inaequalis
Clavaria vermicularis
Clavaria pistillaris
Lactarius volemus
Lactarius deliciosus
Russula alutacea
Russula virescens
Cantharelles cibarius
Marasmius oreades
Hydnum repandum
Hydnum caput-Medusae
Morchella esculenta
Morchella deliciosa
would be well for every outer to learn the eas-
It
ily distinguishable beefsteak fungus (Fistulina hep-
atica) and sulphur mushroom {Polyporus sulphur-
eus) that grow from the trunks of old trees and
stumps, as they are very common, very large, and
"filling."
Mustard. Brassica, several species. Fields and
waste places. Naturalized.
The young leaves are used for greens.
Nettle. Urtica dioicaj and other species; also
the Sow Thistle, Sonchus oleraceus. Fields and
waste places.
Should be gathered, with gloves, when the leaves
are quite young and tender. A pleasant, nourish-
ing and mildly aperient pot-herb, used with soups,
EDIBLE PLANTS 389
salt meat, or as spinach; adds a piquant taste to
other greens. Largely used for such purposes in
Europe.
Nightshade^ Black or Garden. Solanum
nigrum. Waste places, commonly in cultivated soil.
Nova Scotia to Manitoba, south to Fla. and Texas.
July-Oct.
This plant is reputed to be poisonous, though
not to the same degree as its relative from Europe,
the Woody Nightshade or Bittersweet {S. Dul-
camara). It is, however, used as a pot-herb, like
spinach, in some countries, and in China the young
shoots and berries are eaten. Bessey reports that
in the Mississippi Valley the little black berries are
made into pies.
Onion^ Wild. Allium, many species. Rich
woods, moist meadows and thickets, banks and hill-
sides.
Used like domestic onions.
Parsnip^ Cow. Mastei-wort. Heradeum lana-
tum. Moist ground. Labrador to N. C. and Mo.,
Alaska to Cal. June-July.
"The tender leaf and flower stalks are sweet and
very agreeably aromatic, and are therefore much
sought after [by coast Indians] for green food in
spring and early summer, before the flowers have
expanded. In eating these, the outer skin is re-
jected."
Peppergrass, Wild. Lepidium Virgintcum.
Fields and along roadsides. Quebec to Minn.,
south to Fla. and Mexico. May-Nov.
Like the cultivated peppergrass, this is sometimes
used as a winter or early salad, but it is much in-
ferior to other cresses. The spicy pods are good
seasoning for salads, soups, etc.
Pigweed, Rough. Beet-root. Amaranthus
retroflexus. Fields and waste places. Throughout
the continent except extreme north. Naturalized.
Aug. -Oct.
Related to the beet and spinach, and may be used
for greens.
Pigweed, Slender. Keerless. Amaranthus hy-
bridus {A. chlorostachys). A weed of the same
wide range as the preceding. Naturalized. Aug.-
Oct.
Extensively used in the South, in early spring,
as a salad plant, under the name of "keerless."
Plantain, Common. Plantago major. A na-
turalized weed of general range like thje preceding.
May-Sep.
Used as early spring greens.
Pleurisy-Root. Asclepias Tuberosa. Dry
fields. Me. to Minn., south to Fla., Texas, Ariz.
June-Sep.
The tender young shoots may be used like as-
paragus. The raw tuber is medicinal; but when
boiled or baked it is edible.
Pokeweed. Phytolacca decandra. common A
weed east of the Mississippi and west of Texas.
Now cultivated in France, and the wild shoots are
sold in our eastern markets.
In early spring the young shoots and leaves make
an excellent substitute for asparagus.
The root is destroyed by heat),
poisonous (this is
and the raw juice of the old plant is an acrid pur-
gative. The berries are harmless.

Prickly Pear. Opuntia. Several species.
Dry, sandy soil. Along eastern coast, and on west-
ern prairies and plains.
The ripe fruit is eaten raw. The unripe fruit,
if boiled ten or twelve hours, becomes soft and re-
sembles apple-sauce. When the leaves are roasted

in hot ashes, the outer skin, with its thorns, is easily
removed, leaving a slimy but sweet and succulent
pulp which sustains life. Should be gathered with
tongs which can be extemporized by bending a green
stick in the middle and beathing it over the fire.
Primrose, Evening. Onagra biennis (Oeno-

thera b.) Usually ;n dry soil. Labrador to Fla.,
.
west to Rocky Mts. June-Oct.

Young sprigs are mucilaginous and can be eaten
as salad. Roots have a nutty flavor, and are used
in Europe either raw or stewed, like celery.
EDIBLE PLANTS 391
Purslane. Pussley. Portulaca Oleracea.
Fields and waste places. A weed of almost world-
wide distribution. Summer,
This weed was used as a pot-herb by the Greeks
and Romans, and is still so used in Europe. The
young shoots should be gathered w^hen from 2 to
5 inches long. May also be used as a salad, or
pickled. Taste somewhat like string beans, with a
slight acid flavor. The seeds, ground to flour, have
been used by Indians in the form of mush.
Red-Bud. Cercis Canadensis.
French-Canadians use the acid flowers of this
tree in salads. The buds and tender pods are
pickled in vinegar. All may be fried in butter,
or made into fritters.
Saxifrage, Lettuce. Saxifraga micranthidi-
folia. In cold brooks. Appalachian Mts. from Pa.
to N. C. May-June.
Eaten by Carolina mountaineers as a salad under
the name of "lettuce."
Shepherd^s Purse. Bursa Bursa-pastoris
{Capsella B.). Fields and waste places every-
where. Naturalized. Jan.-Dec.
Agood substitute for spinach. Delicious when
blanched and served as a salad. Tastes somewhat
like cabbage, but is much more delicate.
Skunk Spathyema foetida {Symplo-
Cabbage.
carpus /.). Swamps and wet soil. Throughout
the east, and west to Minn, and Iowa. Feb.- April.
The root of this foul-smelling plant was baked
or roasted by eastern Indians, to extract the juice,
and used as a bread-root. Doubtless they got the
hint from the bear, who is very fond of this, one
of the first green things to appear in spring.
SoLOMON''s Seal. Polygonatum biflorum. Woods
and thickets. New Brunsw. to Mich., south to
Fla. and W. Va. April-July.
Indians boiled the young shoots in spring and
ate them also dried the mature roots in fall, ground
;
or pounded them, and baked them into bread. The

raw plant is medicinal.
Sorrel^ Mountain. -Oxyria digyna. Green*
land to Alaska, south to White Mts. of N. H. and in
Rocky Mts. to Colo. July-Sep.
A
pleasant addition to salads.
Sorrel, Sheep. Rumux Acetosella. Dry fields
and hillsides. Throughout the continent, except in
extreme north. May-Sep,
The leaves are very acid. Young shoots may be
eaten as a salad. Also used as; a seasoning for
soups, etc
The European sorrels cultivated as salad plants
are R. Acetosa, R. scutatusj and sometimes R.
Patientia.
Sorrell, White Wood. Oxalis Acetosella.
Cold, damp woods. Nova Scotia to Manitoba, mts.
of N. C, and north shore of Lake Superior. May
July.
Not to the above.
related "The pleasant acid
taste of the leaves, when mixed with salads, im-
parts an agreeable, refreshing flavor." The fresh
plant, or a "lemonade" made from it, is very useful
in scurvy, and makes a cooling drink for fevers.
Should be used in moderation, as it contains binoxa-
late of potash, which is poisonous. Yields the drug-
gist's "salt of lemons."
Storksbill. Pin-clover. Erodium cicutarium.
Waste places and fields. Locally in the east, abund-
ant in the west. April-Sep. Naturalized.
The 5ôung plant is gathered by western Indians
and eaten raw or cooked.
Strawberry Bute. Blitum capitatum (Chen-
opodium c). Dry soil. Nova Scotia to Alaska,
south to N. J., 111., Colo., Utah, Nev. June- Aug.
Sometimes cultivated for greens. Used like spin-
ach.
Trillium. Wake-robin. Beth-root. Trillium
erectum; also T. undulatum and T. grandiflorum.
Woods. Nova Scotia to Minn., and south to Fla.
April-June.
The popular notion that these plants are poison-
ous is incorrect. They make good greens when
EDIBLE PLANTS 393
cooked. The root has medicinal qualities.
TucKAHOE. Pachyma cocos. A subterranean
fungus which grows on decaying vegetable matter,
such as old roots. It is found in light, loamy soils
and in dry waste places, but not in very old fields
or in woodlands. Outwardly it is woody, resemb-
ling a cocoanut or the bark of a hickory tree. The
inside is a compact, white, fleshy mass, moist and
yielding when fresh, but in drying it becomes very
hard, cracking from within. It contains no starch,
but is composed largely of pectose. The Indians
made bread of it, and it is sometimes called Indian
Bread. (For details, see an article by Prof. J. H.
Gore in Smithsonian Report^ 1881, pp. 687-701.)
Unicorn Plant. Martynia Lousiana {M. pro-
boscidea) .Waste places. Me. to N. J. and N. C.
Native in Mississippi Valley from Iowa and 111.
southward. July-Sep.
Cultivated in some places. The seed-pods, while
yet tender, make excellent pickles. The Apaches
gather the half-ripe pods of a related species and
use them for food.
Vetch^ Milk. Astragalus, several species.
May-Aug.
Prairies.
Used as food by the Indians. The pea is hulled
and boiled.
Violet^ Early Blue. Viola palmata. Dry
tfoil, mostly in woods. Me. to Minn.; south to Ga.
and Ark. April-May.
''The plant is very mucilaginous, and is employed
by negroes for thickenig soup, under the name of
Svild okra.' " (Porcher.)
Waterleaf. Hydrophyllum Virginicum.
Woods. Quebec to Alaska, south to S. C, Kan.,
Wash. May-Aug.
'Turnishes good greens. Reappears after being
picked off, and does not become woody for a long
time."
WILD FRUITS
It would extend this chapter bevond reasonable
limits if I were to give details of all the wild fruits
native to the region here considered. As fruits may
be eaten raw, or require no special treatment in
cooking, a mere list of them, with the time of rip-
ening, must suffice:
Carolina Buckthorn. Rhamnus Carolijiiana. Sep.
Woolly-leaved Buckthorn. Bumelia languinosa.
June-July.
Buffalo-berry. Lepargyraea argentea. July-Aug.
American Barberry. Berberis Canadensis. Aug.-
Sep.
Common Barberry. Berberis vulgaris. Sep.
Naturalized.
Bailey's Blackberry. Rubus Baileyanus.
Bristly Blackberry. R. setosus.
Dewberry. R. Canadejisis. June-July.
High Bush Blackberry. R. villosus. July-Aug.
Hispid Blackberry. R. hispid us. Aug.
Low Bush Blackberry. R. trivialis.
Millspaugh's Blackberry. R. Millspaughii. Aug.-
Sep.
Mountain Blackberry. R. Alleghaniensis. Aug^-
Sep.
Sand Blackberry. R. Cuneifolius. July-Aug.
Dwarf Vaccinium caespitosum. Aug,
Bilberry.
Great Bilberry. V' uliginosum. July-Aug.
Oval-leaved Bilberry. V. ovalifolium. July-Aug.
Thin-leaved Bilberry. V. membranaceum. July-
Aug.
Black Blueberry. V. atrococcum. July-Aug.-
Canada Blueberry. V. Canadense. July-Aug.
Dwarf Blueberry. V. Fennyslvanicum. June-
July.
High Bush Blueberry. V. corymbosum. July-
Aug.
Low Blueberry. V. vacillans. July-Aug.
Low Black Blueberry. V. nigrum. July.
Mountain Blueberry. V. pallidum. July-Aug.
Southern Black Huckleberry. F. virgatum. July.
Mountain Cranberry. Windberry. V. Vitis-
Idaea. Aug.-Sei>.
Black Huckleberry Gaylussacia resinosa. July
Aug.
EDIBLE PLANTS 39b'
Box Huckleberry. G. brachycera.

Dwarf Huckleberry. G. dumosa. July- Aug.
Tangleberry. G. frondosa. July- Aug.
Appalachian Cherry. Frunus cuneata.
Choke Cherry. P. Virginiana. July- Aug. (Edible
later.)
Sand Cherry. P. puuiila. Aug.
Sour Cherry. Egriot. P. Cerasus. June-July.
Naturalized.
Western Wild Cherry. P. demissa. Aug.
Western Sand Cherry. P. Besseyi.
Wild Cherry. Crab Cherry. P. Avium. Natu-
ralized.
Wild Black Cherry. P. serotina. Aug. -Sep.
Wild Red Cherry. P. Pennsylvanica. Aug.
American Crab-Apple. Sweet-scented C. Malus
coro?iaria. Sept.-Oct.
Narrow-leaved Crab-Apple. M. angustifolia.
Soulard Crab-Apple. M. Soulardi.
Western Crab-Apple. M. loensis.
American Cranberry. Oxycoccus macrocarpus.
Sep.-Oct.
Small Cranberry. Bog C. O. Oxycoccus. Aug.-
Sep.
Southern Mountain Cranberry. O. erythrocarpus.
July -Sep.
Cranberry Tree. Viburnum Opulus. Aug. -Sep.
Crowberry. Curlew-berry. Empetrum nigrum.
Summer.
Golden Current. Buffalo or Missouri C. Ribei,
aureum.
Northern Black Currant. P.. Hudsonianum.
Red Currant. R. rubrum.
Wild Black Currant. R. floridum. July-Aug.
Elderberry. Sambucus Canadensis. Aug.
Wild Gooseberry. Dogberry. Ribes Cynosbati.
Aug.
Missouri Gooseberry. R. gracile.
Northern Gooseberry. R. oxyacanthoides. July-
Aug.
Round-leaved Gooseberry. R. rotundifolium. July-
Aug.
Swamp Gooseberry. R. lacustre. July-Aug,
Bailey's Grape. Vitis Baileyana.
Blue Grape. Winter G. V. bicolor.
Downy Grape. V. cinerea.
Frost Grape. V. cordifolia. Oct.-Nov-
Missouri Grape. F. pahjiata. Oct.
Northern P'ox Grape. V. Labrusca. Aug. -Sep.
Riverside Grape. Sweet-scented G. V. vulpina,
July-Oct.
Sand Grape. Sugar G. V. rupestris. Aug.
Southern Fox Grape. V. rotundifolia. Aug.-
Sep.
Summer Grape. V. aestivalis. Sep.-Oct:
Ground Cherry. Physalis, several species.
Hackberry. Celtis occidentalis. Sep.-Oct. Ber-
ries dry but edible.
Black: Haw. Viburnum prunifolium. Sep.-Oct.
Scarlet Haw. Red H. Crataegus mollis. Sep.*
Oct.
May Apple. Mandrake. Podophyllum peltatum.
July.
Passion-flower, Passiflora incarnata; also P.
lutea. Fruit known as Maypops.
Pawpaw. Asimina triloba. Fruit edible when
frost-bitten.
Persimmon. Diospyros Virginiana. Fruit edible
after frost.
Beach Plum. Prunus martima. Sep-Oct.
Canada Plum. P. nigra. Aug.
Chickasaw Plum. P. angustifolia. May-July.
Low Plum. p. gracilis.
Porter's Plum. P. Alleghaniensis. Aug.
Watson's Plum. P. JVatsoni.
Wild Goose Plum. P. hortulana. Sep"Oct.
Wild Red Plum. Yellow P. P. Americana.
Aug.-Oct.
Ground Plum. Astragalus crassicarpus ; also A.
Mfxicanus. Unripe fruit resembles green plums,
and is eaten raw or cooked.
Black Raspberry. Thimble-berry. Rubus oc-
cidentalis. July.
Cloudberrv. R. Chamae?norus,
EDIBLE PLANTS 397
Dwarf Raspberry. R. Americanus. July-Jug-
Purple Wild Raspberry. R. neglectus. July-
Jug,
Purple-flowering Raspberry. R. odoratus. July-
Sep.
Salmon-berry. R. parviflorus, July-Sep.
Wild Red Raspberry. R. strigosus. July-Sep.
Service-berry. June-berry. Jmelanchier Can-
adensis. June-July.
Low June-berry. J. spicata.
Northwestern June-berry. J. alnifolia.
Round-leaved June-berry. J. rotundifolia. Jug.
Shad-bush. J. Botryapium. June-July.
Silver Berry. Elaeagnus argentea. July- Aug.
Creeping Snowberry. Ohio genes hispidula. Jug.-
Sep. Berries have flavor or sweet birch.
American Wood Strawberry. Frag aria Jmericana.
Northern Wild Strawberry. F. Canadensis.
Virginia Strawberry. Scarlet S. F. Virginiana.
Black Thorn. Pear Haw. Crataegus tomentosa.
Oct.
Large-fruited Thorn. C. punctata. Sep.-Ort.
Scarlet Thorn. C. coccinea. Sep.-Oct.
MAPLE SUGAR AND SIRUP

Anyone who has access to maple
trees in the
spring of the year can make the best of sirup and
sugar, without any special appliances, provided he
takes some pains to keep the sap clean and unsoured.
The sap season generally begins about the middle

of March and lasts until the third week in April, but
varies with a late or an early spring. Sap may
begin to flow in mid February, or may be held back
until the first of April. It continues "good" from
three to six weeks; that is, until the buds swell, after
which the sap becomes strong and "buddy." It
flows best on a warm day succeeding' a freezing
night. Trees with large crowns yield the most sap.
Those standing in or near cold springs discharge
the most and sweetest sap. An average tree may
yield, in favorable aveather, about two gallons of sap
in 24 hours.
The Indians' and early frontiersmen's method of
tapping a tree was to "box" it by cutting- a slanting
notch in the trunk, about 8 inches long, two or three
feet from the ground, and inserting an elder or
sumac spout in the bark below the lower end of the
notch, from which the sap was caught in a trough
or pail; or, two gashes would be cut like a broad V,
and a spout was put in at the bottom. Such notch-
ing yields a rapid flow, but spoils the tree.
A better way is to bore a hole through the- outer
bark and just into the sapwood (say from one to
two inches depth) on the sunny side of the tree, and
insert a spout. With wooden spouts the hole must
be larger than when iron ones are used, but make
it no larger than necessary (certainly not over one
inch), or you will injure the tree. The hole should
slope slightly upward.
Place a bucket under each spout. It may be
necessary, in a wild region, to drive stout stakes
around the buckets in such way that they cannot be
robbed; for wild animals, as well as domestic ones,
are inordinately fond of maple sap, which seems to
exhilarate them when taken in large quantities.
Collect the sap every morning^ before it can get
warm from the heat of the sun, as it sours easily.
Boil it in a kettle to the consistency of honey; then
dip it out, pass through woolen strainers, and allow
it to stand several hours until impurities have preci-
pitated. It is then ready for use.
To make maple sugar, boil the sirup in a kettle
deep enough to keep it from boiling over. Keep it
simmering over a slow fire until a heavy scum rises
to the surface. Skim this off, and continue the boil-
ing until, when a little of the sirup is stirred in a
saucer, it grains (granulates); or until, when spread
on the snow, it candies on cooling. Then pour it
off into molds. As a rule, it takes about four gal-
lons of sap to make a pound of sugar, and 35 gallons
to make a gallon of sirup, but there are wide varia-
tions, according to quality of sap.
Sap may be reduced to sugar by alternate freezing
and thawing, the ice being throvyn away each time
it freezes.
good sugar and sirup are made from the
Just as
red maple and from the silver (white or soft) maple
as from the sugar maple (rock maple or sugar tree),
but the sap is not quite so rich in sugar, and the
running season is shorter. Since these trees bud
earlier than sugar maple, they should be tapped
earlier. The sap of the ash-leaved maple (com-
EDIBLE PLANTS 399
monly called box elder) has similar qualities; also

that ofthe striped maple (moosewood, striped or
swamp dogwood), but this tree seldom grows largt
enough to be worth using.
There is a decided maple flavor in the sap of tlie
shellbark hickory. A
good sirup can be concocted
by steeping a handful of the dried and crushed inner
bark of this tree in hot water to a strong "tea" and
adding sufficient brown sugar. An extract com-
mercially made from the bark is used in making a
spurious "maple sirup" out of cane or corn sirup. It
is safe to say that not one-tenth of the alleged
maple sugar and sirup now on the market is free
from this or similar adulteration.
As a backwoods expedient, sirup may be made
from the abundant and sugary sap of the black birch
(sweet birch). In times of scarcity the pods of the
honey locust have been utilized to the same end.
They must be used within a month after maturity;
later they become bitter.
BEVERAGES
None of our native plants contain principles that
act upon the nerves
like the caffein of coffee or the
thein of tea; consequently all substitutes for coffee
and tea are unsatisfying, except merely as hot drinks
of agreeable taste. Millions of war-bound people
are suffering this deprivation now.
In the South, during the Civil War, many pitiful
expedients were tried, such as decoctions of parched
meal, dried sweet potatoes, wheat, chicory, cotton-
seed, persimmon-seed, dandelion-seed, and the seeds
of the Kentucky coffee-tree. Better substitutes for
coffee were made from parched rye, from the seeds
of the coffee senna
(Cassia occidentalis) called
"Magdad coffee," and from the parched and ground
seeds of okra. Governor Brown of Georgia once
said that the Confederates got more satisfaction out
of the goldenrod flowers than out of any other
makeshift for coffee. "Take the bloom," he di-
rected, "dry it, and boil to an extract" (meaning
tincture).
Teas, so-called, of very good flavor can be made
from the dried root-bark of sassafras, or from its
early buds, from the bark and leaves of spicewood,
from the leaves of chicory, ginseng, dittany, thr.
sweet goldenrod {Solidago odora), and cinquefoil.
Other plants used for the purpose are Labrador tea,
Oswego tea, and (inferior) New
Jersey tea. Our
pioneers also made
decoctions of chips of the ar-
bor-vitae (white cedar) and of sycamore, the dried
Icuves of black birch, and the tips of hemlock boughs,
sweetening them with maple sugar but here we ap-
;
proach the list of medicinal teas, which is well-nigh

endless. The Indians made a really good "maple
tea" by boiling sassafras-root bark for a short time
in maple sap.
Agreeable summer drinks can be made by infus-
ing the sour fruit of the mountain ash {Pyrus
Americana)^ from sumac berries (dwarf and stag"-
horn), and from the fruit of the red mulberry.
The sweet sap of both hard and soft maples, box
elder, and the birches (except red birch) is potable.
Small beer can be made from the sap of black birch,
from the pulp of honey locust pods, the fruit of
the persimmon, shoots and root-bark of sassa-
fras, and the twigs of black and red spruce. Cider
has been made from the fruit of crab-apples and
service-berries.
CONDIMENTS
Vinegar can be made from ma2le or birch sap, or
from fruit juices, by diluting with water and addin}?:
a little yeast. The very sour berries of sumac turn
cider into vinegar, or they may be used alone.
Our fields and forests afford many pleasant condi-
ments for flavoring. Sassafras, oil of birch, winter-
green, peppermint and spearmint will occur to every
one. Balm, sweet marjoram, summer savory and
tansy are sometimes found in wild places, where
they have escaped from cultivation. The rootstock
of sweet cicely has a spicy taste, with a strong odor
of anise, and is edible. Sweet gale gives a pleasant
flavor to soups and dressings. The seeds of tansy
mustard were used by the Indians in flavoring dishes.
Wild garlic ("ramps"), wild onions, peppergrass,
snowberry and spicewood may be used for similar
purposes.
Perhaps the greatest privation that a civilized man
Buflfers. next to having no meat, is to lack salt anH
EDIBLE Pl|<^S 401
tobacco. In the old days thev* u§©<j^^to burn the
outside of meat and sprinkle ^^m^Q^w^r on it in
lieu of salt; but in this age of g^dkei^"'^wder we
are denied even that consolatibrt* /^Tlfi^^^jês
'
of
plants rich in nitre, such as tobaceq,
sunflower, and the ashes of hickory
recommended. Coville says that the>'^^?k^ i^^î.^
palmate-leaf sweet coltsfoot {Pcfasites pd%nqtc^y^ '^^^v^
highly esteemed by western Indians as a stttst^^y^SÔ'^^
for salt. "To obtain the ash the stem and •fea'^R "^Stk^
were first rolled up into balls while still green,* and
after being carefully dried they were placed on top
of a very small fire on a rock, and burned." Per-
haps a better plan is to make lye by pouring boiling
water on wood ashes, strain, and evaporate to a
white crystalline alkali. Use sparingly.
Many Indians, even civilized ones like some Oi.
the eastern Cherokees, do not use salt to this day.
Strange to say, the best substitute for salt is sugar,
especially maple sugar or sirup. One soon can ac-
custom himself to eat It even on meat. Among some
of the northern tribes, maple sirup not only takes
the place of salt in cooking, but is used for season-
ing the food after it is served. Wild honey, boiled,
and the wax skimmed off, has frequently served rrn.
in place of sugar in my tea, in army bread, etc.
KINNIKINICK
Men who use tobacco can go a good while hungry
without much grumbling, so long as the weed holds
out.
Thou who, when cares attack,
Bidd'st them avaunt! and Black
Care, at the horseman's back
Perching, unseatest!
But let tobacco play out, and they are in a bad way!
Substitutes for it may be divided into those that are
a bit better than nothing and those that are worse.
Among the latter may be rated tea. Yes, tea is
smoked by many a poor fellow in the far North!
It is said to cause a most painful irritation in the
throat, which is aggravated by the cold air of that
region. Certainly it can have no such effect on the
nerves as tobacco, for it is full of tannin, and tannin
destroys nicotin.
Kinnikinick is usually made of poor tobacco mixed
with the scrapings or shavings of other plants, al-
though the latter are sometimes smoked alone. Chief
of the substitutes is the red osier dogwood (Corntis
stoloniferd) or the related silky cornel (C. sericea)
commonly miscalled red willow. These shrubs are
very abundant in some parts of the North. The
dried inner bark is aromatic and very pungent, highly
narcotic, and produces in those unused to it a heavi-
ness sometimes approaching stupefaction. Young
shoots are chosen, or such of the older branches as
still keep the thin, red outer skin. This skin is
shaved off with a keen knife, and thrown away.
Then the soft, brittle, green inner bark is scraped
off with the back of the knife and put aside for use;
or, if wanted immediately, it is left hanging to the
stem in little frills and is crisped before the fire. It
is then rubbed between the hands into a form re-
sembling leaf tobacco, or is cut very fine with la
knife and mixed with tobacco in the proportion of
two of bark to one of the latter.
A more highly prized kinnikinick is made from
the leaves of the bear-berry or uva-ursi {Arctosiaphy-
los-uva-ttrsi)
, called sacaoommis by the Canadian
traders, who sell it to the northern Indians for more
than the price of the best tobacco. The leaves are
gathered in the summer months, being then milder
than in winter. Inferior substitutes are the crumbled
dried leaves of the smooth sumac (Rhus glabra) and
the fragrant sumac (R. aromatica), which, like tea,
contain so much tannin that they generally produce
bronchial irritation or sore throat.
CHAPTER XXII
LIVING OFF THE COUNTRY—
IN EXTREMIS
As I said at the beginning, the supreme test of
woodcraft comes when the equipment has been
destroyed by some disaster. Such misfortunes are
not uncommon; if we seldom hear of them it is
because they happen in far-away, isolated places,
and the survivors are not interviewed by the press.
A man gets lost and has to wander for a week,
two weeks, or longer, before he meets a human
being. A
canoe is smashed to bits in a rapid, a
hundred miles from the nearest outpost, and the
men get ashore with nothing but the clothes they
stand m and the contents of their pockets. And
worse has happened. Robinson Crusoe had a pren-
tice job compared to the actual experiences of
hundreds of men and women whom fate has thrown,
destitute of tools or weapons, far from the paths
and courses of civilization.
The pity is that such disasters befall, in so many
cases, people who have no knowledge of how to
meet them. Helplessness breeds despair. One
woodsman, at such a time, will rustle more food
than a company of tenderfoots. At the worst he
will find something to keep him going —
something
that the others, though starving, would pass by
without knowing that it could give them energy.
In this sort of emergency, needless to say, there
is but one law: self-preservation. Game laws and
other rules of sportsmanship are, for the time, non-
existent. The sufferer will kill anything that can
be eaten, in any way that he can get it. If all
403
jxame has migrated, and fish cannot be caught, he
will eat anything that will give him strength, no
matter how unpleasant it would be at other times.
A man without a gun will depend, for animal
food, chiefly upon fish and upon such game as he
can capture with snares. When one ventures into
the wilderness he knows well enough that he may
meet disaster at the most unexpected moment, and
there is no excuse for him ever being caught with-
out a jackknife, a waterproof box filled with
matches, a compass, a good length of stout fish-line,
and some hooks. (A woodsman sleeps in his
trousers, and he will not even risk bathing where
there is danger of losing them.) If he must spend
all the daylight in traveling, he can at least set out
a night-line for fish and snares for rabbits or other
sm.allmammals.
Snaring. It — is not worth while here to describe
and the like; for our
deadfalls, pitfalls, coop traps,
adventurer probably has no tool to make them, nor
anything to bait them with. Anyway, a snare will
serve just as well, takes much less time and mater-
ial to set up, and game can be caught In it without
any bait at all.
Ground which catch by the feet or legs,

snares,
are not to be considered, as they are likely to be
broken by the animal's frantic plunges, or may be
chewed off, unless made of wire. The surest way
is to fix a noose to a spring-pole, and set it with a
trigger, so as to catch the animal round the neck

and jerk it up into the air where its struggles are
soon over.
Just how to set a snare depends upon what kind
of animal you try for. Take, for example, rab-
bits (I use this word generically to include cotton-
tails and hares of all degrees). They are the com-
monest of game everywhere, from far north to
farthest south, in swamps, in woodlands, on the
plains, and up the mountains to tree limit. Since
they are fond of beaten paths, and are not of a
suspicious nature, they can be caught without bait;
LIVING OFF THE COUNTRY 405
although their food is such that even a lost man

can find it if he chooses to bait his snares. They
do not hibernate, but are out all the year round. So
the rabbit is a lost man's main chance in the meat
hne.
A good snare for setting in a runway is shown
in Fig. 190. It catches "coming or going." A
small, springy sapling (A), growing a few feet to
190. — Runway snare
one side of the rabbit path, is trimmed, and will

he bent over for setting. If none grows in the
right place, cut one and drive it firmly into a hole
made with a sharpened stick, or lash it to a tree
or stub. The best place for a snare is in the bend
of a runway with plenty of bushes on both sides.
Drive a stout stake at Cj and notch it for the
trigger D. Plant opposite it, at F, a dead branch
that forks over top of snare so the animal will run
under, but not in such a way as to entangle the
loop when sprung. Now take a length of soft brass
or copper wire, or a strong cord (No. i-o braided
linen fish-line is good), twist or tie it to the end
of spring-pole and around the little wooden trigger,
and form the long part into a noose. Bend the
pole and set the trigger, as shown, extending loop
over the runway, a couple of inches off the ground.
The noose may be about six inches in diameter. If
of wire, it can be held in place by drawing it light-
ly into the cleft end of a stub, as at Ej or a split
stick stuck in theground for that purpose. If cord
is used, hold it with little twigs or with
in place
blades of grass bent round it and drawn back into
nicks made with a knife in the stakes at each side,
as at F. No bait is needed.
This is also a good snare to set at the mouth of
a den or burrow.
As for baited snares, there are many Ingenious
ways of rigging them.^ One example will suffice.
The bait will depend, of course, upon the
itself
kind of animal to be caught. For rabbits it may
be succulent roots or wild fruits. The 'coon, 'pos-
sum, and skunk have a varied diet: grasshoppers,
crickets, beetles, grubs, mussels, fish, crayfish, frogs,
snakes, lizards, birds, eggs, nuts, fruits, roots; and
lots of other things. The wildcat and the lynx are
lured by any kind of meat, particularly if it is bloody.
If the bait is so small or so delicate that it cannot be
tied to the bait-stick,
make for it a little pan
of bark fastened to the
stick. All wild animals
are passionately fond of
salt,and, if you have
any of it, a pinch of salt
rubbed on the bait will
make it all the more en^
ticing.
^.//^ The snare shown in

Fig. 191 is easy to rig,
requires only a short
Fig. 191. — Baited length of wire or cord,

snare
and goes off like a hair
trigger. Its dimensions will depend on the size of
the animal it is set for. The idea is to have the
loop only large enough for the prey to stick its
head through without touching on more than
one. side, if any, and just high enough from the
ground by a leg or foot. The
so as not to catch
bait sets back only farenough for the noose to catch
around the throat and behind the ears except in —
case of a 'coon, which always reaches in with its
paw, so the bait-stick must be set far enough back
to allow for this.
For rabbits, cut a limber stick about two feet
long and as your thumb; sharpen both
thick as
ends, bend in the middle, and drive in the ground in
the form of an arch (A), The end of the spring-
pole, when bent over, comes just over the top of
this arch (D). Now cut a stick (B) of length
corresponding to height of arch, trim one end to a
slightly wedge-shaped point, and
tie the bait to the
middle. A similar stick (C)
cut of such length
is
that, when rigged as here shown, the bait will stand

at the right distance back of the arch. The figure
shows how the noose is attached. If the ground
is soft, set the butt of the bait-stick on a fiat stone
or chip.
To make the animal stick his head in through the
arch, drive dead sticks in a
instead of elsewhere,
semi-circle, with the arch for an entrance, leaving
twigs on them to give a natural appearance to the
little den.
Such a snare can be used with success on large
animals, a stronger spring-pole and noose being re-
quired, of course, and the pen made larger, ac-
cordingly. Even such powerful beasts as the bear
and the moose can be caught with snares of twisted
—
rawhide or rope but we are considering only small
game.
When setting for animals that are wily
and suspicious, use no green sticks, but sound dead
ones, rub dirt over the cuts, drop no chips about
the snare, leave the ground undisturbed, and handle
things as little as possible, for your own scent is a
"give-awa3%"
It is of no use to set snares or other traps except
where there is recent "sign," such as tracks, drop-
pings, twigs and bark nibbled, feathers or hair of
sinlmals eaten, and so on. You must find where
your quarry lives, or where it often goes in search
of food.
If there is likelihood of a finely-set snare being
sprung by birds or mice, make the ends of the
trigger-sticks flat, with good bearing, and tie the
bait on so firmly that it w^ll take a smart tug to
release the trigger.
A very simple and effective snare for birds, as
well as for small mammals, is rigged by dropping
a small evergreen or other bushy tree across a trail
or runway, so that its stem is a foot or so above the
ground (depending upon size of animal) then ;
trim off enough under branches to leave an open-

ing in the middle of the trail, and set a noose in it,
attached to the tree. Two or three such openings
may be made, with a noose in each. Scatter bait
along the path on both sides of the tree. An ani-
mal finding a noose drawing about its neck will
push onward, mstead of backing out, and so choke
itself to death.
If 5ôu have neither wire nor cord to make nooses
with, use any of the strong, pliable rootlets, or
bark cords, mentioned in Chapter XV. After one
animal is captured, its skin and intestines can be
made into strings or thongs for such purposes.
—
Fishing for the Pot. Trout, perch, pickerel,
and various other fishes, may be taken with hook
and line any month in the year when they are in —
the humor. In cold weather, fish the deep still
water, through holes in the ice, if there are any.
Where suckers lie motionless, in plain view, they
can be snared with a wire noose by dropping it
gently in front and under one of them, and giving
a jerk. Other fish sometimes may be taken in the
same way. In hot weather, if 5ôu have no tackle
at all, seek a small spring-hole, close its outlet with
sticks and brush, build an artificial outlet, with
rocks, etc., leading to a flat; then get into the
spring-hole, thrash around with a stick, poke under

the ledges, and scare the fish out to where they
will be stranded, so you may catch them with your
naked hands. Some spring-holes can be made into
traps themselves by digging a deeper outlet and
running the water off.
Bait. —The commonest of all baits, earthworms,
are not common in a wilderness.
Generally they
are creatures of the barnyard and garden. Out in
the big woods they are too scarce to consider, ex-
cept as accidental findings. If you chance upon
an old lumber camp or saw-mill site, you may find
worms in abundance by digging under piles of
chips and sawdust. Sometimes, in a damp place
in the forest, you can get active little red fellows
(fine bait) under overturned rocks or logs, or under
the moss on the banks of brooks. The largest
worms I ever saw are found, after a warm shower,
or just before nightfall, on the grassy summits of
*'balds" in the Great Smoky Mountains, nearly
6,000 feet above sea-level; some of them are full
two feet long.
The best all-round bait is a lively minnow. You
may catch minnows on a very small hook with
most of the barb filed off, or even on a bent pin,
baited with a tiny bit of meat, a maggot, a grub,
or a small insect. In winter, try a spring-hole,
or cut through the ice close to shore.
Three men working together can capture plenty
of minnows in a few minutes, wherever there is a
small stream, by using what we called in the Ozarks
a "brush seine." Simply get a lot of willows or
other pliable brush, lay the stuff overlapping to
length desired, and twist a little until the branch-
lets interlock (like a farmer twisting a hay rope).
Then, with a man at each end to haul, and another
at the middle to hold the "seine" down in the
water, drag the shallows and run the minnows
ashore.
On in rough or turbid water, the
dark days, or
best are shiners, silversides (redfins), and
baits
other bright colored minnows; but they do not live
long on the hook. In sunny weather, and for clear,
still water, chubs and other tough species are pre-
ferred, being moie active and enduring. Almost
any small fish will do in a pinch. Young yellow
perch make excellent bait if the dorsal spine is
clipped off. On the Potomac and the Susquehanna
rivers a favorite bass bait is what they call a mad-
tom, which nothing but a small yellow catfish

is
(stone cat) with its spines cut off. To keep a tom

from running under a rock and anchoring himself
there, they peel a bit of skin off the back of his
head: one bump on that tender spot cures him!
For bass, pickerel, and mascalonge (spell it to
suit yourself —
here in the Carolina mountains the
natives call it the "jack fish" —
yes, we have the
real mascalonge) don't use minnows under three
inches, if you can get better ones. A
half-pound
bass will get away with a five-inch minnow.
When fishing with a short line and no reel, hook
your minnow through the back, instead of the
mouth, just behind the dorsal fin, being careful not
to injure the backbone. The reason is that you
have no chance to let your bass run and turn the
—
minnow for swallowing you must strike quick,
(Now don't
while he is holding it by the middle.
get your own back up, Mr. Angler, this whole
chapter is for men in extremity, and sportsmanship
has nothing to do with it.)
Frogs often are good bait in still fishing (the
only method we are considering), although most
favored by bait casters. Use none but small ones;
the big fellows are of no account except for your
own eating. The young of the common leopard
frog is best. through both lips, from
Hook him
the bottom up, but to one side, so as to miss the
artery In the center of the upper jaw. Let the
hook come out near one eye then the frog will
;
wriggle around in trying to right himself. Keep

him in motion a good deal, and bring him up now
and then for a breathing-spell, or he will drown.
Young frogs are to be found from June to August
along the grassy banks of creeks, muddy margins
of ponds, around springs, and wet swales. To
capture without a net, approach stealthily until
within sure reach; then strike swiftly, with fingers
outspread.
In May and June, tadpoles can be used with
success. The little red newt (often called "spring
lizard," although it is not a reptile but a batrachian)
is greedily taken by trout and other
fish. It abounds
in the woods under stones and

as early as April,
decaying logs or stumps, and comes out in great
numbers after wârm rains.
Crayfish (generally called "crawfish," by some
"crabs") are found under flat stones in shallow
water. They shed their hard armor periodically,
and are at their best as bait when in the "shedder"
stage. In this condition they may be hooked
through the body, avoiding the heart, which lies
close to the back just forward of where the tail
joins the body. When in the hard shell, pass the
hook upward through the tail; or, if the hook is
too small to project enough in this way, pass it
into the shell and out again. Use a float on the
line, so as to keep the crayfish a few inches off
the bottom, or he will cling like grim death to the
first thing he can get hold of. Bass are very fond
of crayfish at times.
One of the best natural baits for bass, when the
water is clear, is that fierce-looking creature called
hellgrammite, dobson, or grampus. This is the
larva of a large winged insect, the horned corydalis.
It is found under stones or other submerged ob-
jects in shallow, swift-running water. To catch
it, turn the stone over, upstream; the hellgrammite
then will curl up into a ball and float down into

the net or hat held to receive it. Seize it by the
sides of the neck, to avoid its sharp pincers, and,
holding your hook sidewise so the barb will be
horizontal, pass the point under and close up against
the hard "collar" on the back of the neck, from
behind forward, bringing the hook out just be-
hind the thing's head. A hellgrammite soIs tough
and tenacious of life that two or more fish may be
caught with one of them. Like the crayfish, it
should be kept off the bottom by a float or by mov-
ing it frequently. The mature corydalis fly can
be used as bait, after plucking off its wings, but it
it much softer than the larva and does not live
long on the hook.

From early spring until June, or even July, it
iseasy to get "stick bait" (the larva of the caddis
fly)in almost any trout stream. This little white
grub or creeper, with short black thorax and black
head armed with nippers, makes for itself a cylin-
drical case out of tiny twigs, bits of leaf, sand, etc.,
stuck together with silk that it secretes, the whole
being a good example of protective resemblance,
for it looks just like a broken piece of dead twig.
Caddis worms, hidden in these cases, strew the bot-
tom of still shallows at the sides of streams, along
ivith trash collected there by the eddies. Pinch off
one end of the case, draw the worm out by its
head, and impale it on a small trout hook. Fish
take it very greedily.
Various other aquatic larvae, such as those oi
stone flies, drakes, and water beetles, will be found
in spring and summer under stones and sticks, or
attached to them, in shallow water with rocky or
gravelly bottom. Almost any creeper that you find
in such a place is good bait.
Throughout the hot summer months the best of
all live baits for trout are certain species of grass-
hoppers. Some of these may
be captured even as
late as October. Therelittle, hard-bodied,
is a
green grasshopper, active and hard to catch, that ap-
pears early in the season and Is a good fish lure
at that time; but the later green ones are too soft
and pulpy to stay on a hook, and they seldom bring
a strike, anyway. Then there are the large, slow-
flying, dry-looking locusts that become so numerous
late in —
summer they are worthless. What the
fish want, and will go after, are the medium-sized
LIVING OFF THE Ôi/XTRY 415
'hoppers with darkish, well marked bodies, red or
yellow under wings, and a juicy appearance. In the
dog-days, when trout lie deep in the pools, sluggish
and scornful of all other lures, it takes this sort
of a grasshopper, kicking madly along the surface,
to interest, excite, and compel your big old stagei
to an athletic contest.
The time to catch grasshoppers is in the early
morning, when the grass is still heavy with dew,
or after a shower, or by moonlight after the deW
has fallen. They are cold and torpid then, and you
can pick up a boxful in no time. Common ways
of hooking are through the upper part of the thorax,
or through the "breastplate" and upward out through
the head. Either of these will do in rippling water,
though the bait dies quickly; but to provoke a lazy
trout from the bottom of a still pool you must
give your 'hopper every chance and encouragement
to play the gymnast, and keep it up. This he cer^
tainly cannot do if impaled through the vitals.
Tie a loop of thread around his bodj^, under the
wings and just ahead of the hind legs. Then run
a small hook, from behind and forward, through this
loop, on the under side of the insect's body, so that
the bend of the hook hangs straight down between
the legs and pointing backward. Harnessed in this
way, the grasshopper is uninjured, and he is natural-
ly balanced on the water. Drop him in, as far
above the pool as circumstances will permit, and
let the current carry him along while he kicks like
a fury to rid himself of his incumbrance. It is a
lump and a sot of a trout who can stand such a
performance over his very nose.
Crickets have the same "season" as grasshoppers,
and are used in the same way. You will find them
under rocks and logs, or they can be captured in
the open after a shower. Bass are not so fond
c{ grasshoppers and crickets as trout are; and yet,
In the hot months, there are times when our notion-
al small-mouth will take nothing else.
During the time of frost, bait may be bard to
get ; but
fish have less choice then, and, correspond-
ingly, are not so fanciful about their diet, when
they have any appetite at all. Grubs may be found
in decaying tree trunks, down-logs and stumps,
which you can kick open or knock to pieces. Many
insects hibernate under logs and rocks, loose old
bark, rotting leaves, etc., and so do snails and liz-
ards. A warm, thawing day will bring many of
them out.
If the wanderer has saved a bit of bacon, he has
fish bait ready at hand, f laving caught one fish,
then he has bait for others by utilizing the "throat
latch" (the Vof tough skin and tendon directly
under the tongue), or a strip of white, glistening
fish belly, which he will skitter on the water to
imitate the motions of a live minnow. If the skin
of a small trout or perch is used, leave the belly fin
on.
—
Night Liljes. If one has enough stout line
and hooks, he can set out a trot-llne overnight,
and stand good chance of fresh fish for breakfast.
Methods vary, according to circumstances. Sup-
pose you are on the bank of a river, and have no
boat. To one end of your line tie a stone about
the size of your fist. Three feet back of it tie on
your first snood, and add others at similar in-
tervals —
two, three, or more of them. The snood
is a bit of line, twelve to eighteen inches long, with
a stout hook at the end of it. Coil the rest of the

line neatly on the bank and tie Its near end to a
stake driven firmly Into the ground. Bait the
hooks, as directed below. Now get a forked stick
as long as a broom-handle, poke Its crotch under the
stone, and heave the line into the stream. In this
way there Is no danger of hooking your hand when
throwing. The stick gives extra leverage; so don't
throw too hard, or you will outrun your line and
break It. If there Is slack line left, draw it In until
you feel the tug of the stone anchor. Then drive
a Umber stick In front of your stake, split its top,
and draw your line through the split to keep all
taut. If a fish hooks Itself while you are by, you
win know it by the jerking of the trigger stick.
Then haul in and bait afresh. In this way we
used to catch barrels of catfish, redhorses, buffaloes,
and white suckers, w^hen I wâs a kid, out West.
We would set out several trot-lines, put a ball of
mud on each trigger stick, go off skylarking, come
back, and —wherever
a mud ball had tumbled off
we knew we had a fish!
If minnows or crawfish or hellgrammltes are used
as bait, or If the bottom is rough, it is a good plan
to float the hooks of a trot-line a few Inches off the
bottom. This also keeps the bait in sight of pass-
ing fish. A
split cork, or a bit of light wood, about
four Inches back of each hook, will do the business.
For bait on a set-line you can use anything that
fish will eat, and this is a broad order, since most
of your catch will be ground-feeders who are not
at all fastidious. For catfish one of the best baits
is raw, red meat. Entrails and other offal of ani-
mals you may have snared will do very well. Soft
or delicate bait, such as liver, should be threaded on
the hooks, or inclosed in a bit of mosquito netting,
if you should chance to have any. This hinders
turtles and eels from stealing the bait.
Lacking a long line, you can tie short **bush
lines," here and there along the bank at likely
places, to limbs of projecting trees, or to poles se-
curely planted In the bank. It pays to take up
the outlines several times during the night, to re-
bait, and to get fish or turtles that might break away
if left on too long.
Frogs. —
Hitherto we have considered frogs only
as bait. Let my revered and oft-quoted mentor
"Nessmuk" tell how to get them for the pan. A
man without equipment can easily extemporize all
that is needed.
"And when fishing is very poor, try frogging. It

is not sport of a high order, though it rnay be called
—
angling and it can be made amusing, with hook and
line, . There are several modes of takino- the
. .
festive batrachian. He Is speared with a frog-spear;
caught under the chin with snatch-hooks; taken with
hook and hne; or picked up from a canoe [or ashore]
with the aid of a headlight, or jack-lamp. The two
latter modes are best.
To take him with hook and line: a light rod, six to
eight feet of line, a snell of single gut with a 1-0
Sproat or O'Shaughnessy hook, and a bit of bright
scarlet flannel for bait; this is the rig. To use it,
paddle up behind him silently, and drop the rag just
in front of his nose. He is pretty certain to take it
on the instant. Knock him on the head before cut-
ting off his legs. ...
"By far the most effective manner of frogging is
by the headlight on dark nights. To do this most
successfully, one man in a light canoe, a good head-
light, and a light, one-handed paddle, are the re-
quirements. The frog is easily located, either by his
croaking or by his peculiar shape. Paddle up to
him silently and throw the light in his eyes; you may
then pick him up as you would a potato. I have
known a North Woods guide to pick up a five-quart
pail of frogs in an hour, on a dark evening. On the
table, frogs' legs are usually conceded first place for
delicacy and flavor. . And, not many years
. .
ago, an old pork-gobbling backwoodsman threw his

frying-pan into th** river because I had cooked
frogs' legs in it. While another, equally intelligent,
refused to use my frying-pan because I had cooked
eels in it; remarking sententiously, 'Eels is snakes,
an' I know it.*"
—
''Small Deer." It goes without saying that
men traveling through a barren region cannot be
fastidious in their definition of "game." All's meat
that comes to a hungry man's pot. A few words
here may
not be amiss as to the edible qualities of
certain animals that are not commonly regarded
as game, but which merit an explorer's considera-
tion from the start; also as to some that are not
recommended.
Probably most sportsmen know that 'coon is not
bad eating, especially when young, if it is properly
prepared but how many would think to remove
;
the scent-glands before roasting a 'coon? These

glands should be sought for and extracted from all
animals that have them, before the meat is put in
the pot. Properly dressed, and, if necessary, par-
boiled in two or three waters, even muskrats, wood-
chucks, and fish-eating birds can be made palatable.
(See Vol. I., pp. 281, 313, 316, 318.)
Prairie-dog is as good as squirrel. The flesh of
the porcupine is good, and that of the skunk is
equal to roast pig. Beaver meat is very rich and
•cloying, and in old animals is rank; but the boiled
liver and tail are famous tid-bits wherever the
beaver is found. A man would have to be hard
pressed to tackle any of the other fur-bearers as
food, excepting, of course, bear and 'possum.
The flesh of all members of the cat tribe, wild-
cats, lynxes, and panthers, is excellent. Doctor
Hart Merriam declares that panther flesh is better
tlian any other kind of meat. The Englishman
Ruxton, who lived in the Far West in the time of
Bridger and the Sublettes and Fitzpatrick, says:
^'Throwing aside all the qualms and conscientious
scruples of a fastidious stomach, it must be con-
fessed that dog meat takes a high rank in the won-
derful variety of cuisine afforded to the gsurmand
and the gourmet by the prolific mountains. Now,
when the bill of fare offers such tempting viands
as buffalo beef, venison, mountain mutton, turkey,
grouse, wildfowl, hares, rabbits, beaver-tails, etc.,
etc., the station assigned to dog as No. 2 in the

list can be wêll appreciated — No. i, in delicacy of
flavor, richness of meat, and other good qualities,
being the flesh of panthers, w^hich surpasses every
other, and all put together."
Lewis and Clark say of dog flesh: "The greater
part of us have acquired a fondness for it. . . .
While we subsisted on that food we were fatter,

stronger, and in general enjoyed better health than
at any period since leaving the buffalo country."
Again they say: "It is found to be a strong, healthy
diet, preferable to lean deer or elk, and much
superior to horse flesh in any state." Many other
travelers and residents in the early West commended
dog meat; but the animals that they speak of were
such as had been specially fattened by the Indians
for food, and not starved and hard-worked sledge
animals.
One who was driven by starvation to eat wolf's
Hesh says that it "tastes exactly as a dirty, wet dog
smells, and it Is gummy and otherwise offensive.'*
But seems that tastes differ, or, more likely, that
it
all wolves are not alike. Ivar Forsheim of Sver-

drup's second Norwegian polar expedition says:
"They were two she-wolves in very much better
condition than beasts of prey usually are, with the
exception of bears. The fat really looked so white
and good that we felt inclined to taste it, and if
we did that, we thought we might as well try the
hearts at the same time. Although most people
will consider this a dish more extraordinary than
appetizing, I think prejudice plays a large part
here; as, at any rate, we found the meat far better
than we expected."
I am assured by more than one white man who
has eaten them that the flesh of snakes and lizards
is as good as chicken or frogs' legs. One of my
friends, however, draws the line at the prairie
rattler. Once when he was on the U. S. Geo-
logical Survey he came near starving In the desert,
and had to swallow his scruples along with a snake
diet. "Probably," he said, "a big, fat diamond rat-
tler might be all right, but the little prairie rattler
is too sweetish for my taste; It's no comparison to
puff-adder; puff-adder, my boy, Is out of sight!"

This much I can swallow, by proxy; but when
Dan Beard speaks approvingly of hellbenders as a
side dish, I must confess that I'm like Kipling's
elephant whenthe alligator had him by the nose:
"This Is too buch for be!"
Another of my acquaintances assured me that
the prejudice against crow (real Corvus) Is not
well founded, and I found by testing that he was
in the right. The great gray owl is good roasted,
despite what it may be when "blled." The flesh of
.

the whippoonvill is excellent. Turtles' eggs are
better than those of the domestic fowl (soft-shell
turtles deposit their eggs on sandbars about the
third week in June)
It is the testimony of gourmets who survived the
siege of Paris that cats, rats, and mice are the most
misprized of all animals, from a culinary point of
view. "Stewed puss," says one of them, "is by
far more delicious than stewed rabbit. Those. .
who have not tasted couscoussou of cat have never

tasted anything."
Anyway, who are we, to set up standards as to
the fitness or unfitness of things to eat? We
shudder with horror at the idea of eating dog or
cat, but of such a downright filthy animal as the pig
we eat ears, nose, feet, tail, and intestines. How
about our moldy and putrid cheeses, our boiled cab-
bage and sauerkraut, raw Hamburgers and "high"
game? The hardihood of him w^ho first swallowed
a raw oyster! And if snails are good, w^hy not
locusts, dragon flies, and the like? I tell you from
experience that when you get to picking the skippers

out of your pork, and begrudge them the holes they
have made in it, you will agree that any kind of
fresh, wild meat that is not carrion is clean and
wholesome. Caspar Whitney, after describing his
menu of frozen raw meat in the Barren Grounds,
says: "I have no doubt some of my readers will be
disgusted by this recital and as I sit here at my desk
;
writing, with, but to reach out and press a button

for dinner, luncheon —
w^hat I wîll —
I can hardly
realize that only a few months ago I choked an
Indian until he gave up a piece of muskox intestine
he had stolen from me. One must starve to know
w^hat one w411 eat."
I trust that none of my readers may be cast down
by reading these somewhat lugubrious pages. After
ail, it is not so bad to learn new dishes; but think
of the predicament of that poor weight he was a —
—
missionary to the Eskimo, I believe who. being cast
;

adrift on an ice floe, and essaying to eat his boots,
did incontinently sneeze his false teeth into the
middle of Baffin's Bay!
IN EXTREMIS.—The Far North is Famine
Land, the world over, and to it we must look for
examples of what men can subsist on when driven

to the last extremity.
In all northern countries, within the tree limit, it
is customary, in starving times, to mix with the
scanty hoard of flour the ground bark of trees. It
is possible to support life even with bark alone. The
Jesuit missionary Nicollet reported, more than two
centuries ago, that an acquaintance of his, a French
Indian-agent, lived seven weeks on bark alone, and
the Relations of the order, in Canada, contain many
instances of a like expedient. Those were hard
times in New France! Such an experience as this
was dismissed with a single sentence, quite as a
matter of course: ''An eelskin was deemed a sump-
tuous supper; I had used one for mending a robe,
but hunger obliged me to unstitch and eat it."
Another brother says: "The bark of the oak, birch,
linden, and that of other trees, when well cooked
and pounded, and then put into the water in which
fish had been boiled, or else mixed with fish-oil,
made some excellent stews." Again: "they [the
Indians] dried by a fire the bark of green oak, then
they pounded it and made it into a porridge." It
seems that the human stomach can stand a lot of
tannin, if it has to do so.
The young shoots of spruce and tamarack, the
inner bark (in spring) of pine, spruce, and hemlock,
young leaf-stems of beech, hickory and other trees,
the buds of poplar, maple and wild rose, and the
young leaves and flowers of basswood are nutritious
but these can be had only, of course, in spring. Far
better than oak bark are the inner barks of alder,
quaking aspen, basswood, birch, sweet bay, cotton-
wood, slippery elm (this especiall}'^ is nutritious),
white elm, pignut hickory, yellow locust, striped

maple, poplar, and sassafras. The Chippewas boil
the thick, sweetish bark of the shrubby bittersweet
or staff-tree {Celastrus sea nd ens) and use it for
food. Young saplings of white cedar have a sweet
pith of pleasant flavor which the Ojibways used in
making soup.
The following entry In the diary of Sir John
Franklin sounds naive, when stripped of its context,
but there is a world of grim pathos back of it:
''There was no tripe de rochej so we drank tea and
ate some of our shoes for supper." The rock tripe
here referred to (Umbilicaria ai-ctica or Dillenii) Is
one of several edible lichens that grow on rocks and
are extensively used as human food in lands beyond
the arctic tree limit. Reindeer moss {Cladonia
rangiferina) and the* well-known Iceland moss
{Cetraris Icelandica) are other examples. These
are starchy, and, after being boiled for two or three
hours, form a gelatinous mass that Is digestible,
though repulsive appearance, one of the early
In
Jesuits likening it to the slime of snails, and another
admitting that "it is necessary to close one's eyes to
eat It."
CHAPTER XXIII
ACCIDENTS AND EMERGENCIES THEIR :
BACKWOODS TREATMENT
The present chapter is boiled down for the use of
men of little or no surgical experience, who may
suddenly find themselves wounded, or with an in-
jured companion on their hands, when far away
from any physician.
In operating upon a comrade, the main things are
to keep cool, act promptly, and make him feel that
you have no doubt that you can pull him through
all right. Place him in a comfortable position, and
expose the wound. If you cannot otherwise remove
the clothing quickly and without hurting him, rip it
up the seam. First stop the bleeding, if there is
any; then cleanse the wound of dirt (but do not
wash it) ;then close it, if a cut or torn wound;
then apply a sterilized dressing; then bandage it in
place. Of course, if the injury is serious, you will
immediately send a messenger hot-foot for a sur-
geon, provided there is any chance of getting one.
As for the patient himself, let him never say die.
Pluck has carried many a man triumphantly through
what seemed the forlornest hope. Let me take space
for an example or two.
Kit Carson once helped to amputate a comrade's
limb when the only instruments available were a
razor, a handsaw, and the kingbolt of a wagon.
Not a man in the party knew how to take up an
artery. Fine teeth were filed in the back of the
saw, the iron was made white-hot, the arm was
removed, the stump seared so as to close the blood-
422
ACCIDENTS AND EMERGENCIES 423
vessels, and — the patient recovered.
Charles F. Lummis, having fractured his right
arm so badly that the bone protruded, and being
alone in the desert, gave his canteen strap two flat
turns about the wrist, buckled it around a cedar
tree, mounted a nearby rock, set his heels upon the
edge, and threw himself backward. He fainted ;
but the bone was set. Then, having rigged splints
to the injured member with his left hand and teeth,
he walked fifty-two miles without resting, before
he could get food, and finished the 700-mile tramp
to Los Angeles with the broken arm slung in a
bandanna.
Richardson tells of a Montana trapper who, hav-
ing his leg shattered in an Indian fight, and finding
that gangrene was setting in, whetted one edge of
his big hunting knife, filed the other into a saw, and
with his own hands cut the flesh, sawed the bone,
and seared the arteries with a hot iron. He survived.
First-aid Materials. —
Many of the operations
hereinafter described can be performed with extem-
porized materials; but antiseptics and sterilized
dressings, ready at all times for instant use, are so
essential in the treatment of wounds and other in-
juries, that every wise traveler will carry on his
person some sort of first-aid packet. Even if this
be nothing more than one of the Red Cross dress-
ings for small wounds and a few antiseptic tablets,
sealed up in a waterproof and greaseproof envelope,
which weighs practically nothing and takes up hard-
ly any room, it may make all the difference bet\veen
a quick cure and long suffering or death from blood-
poisoning. The pocket emergency case that I
mentioned on page 103, along with a soldier's first-
aid packet for major injuries, are sufficient to give
emergency treatment in any case, yet the two to-
gether weigh less than half a pound and can bf
carried in a coat Docket.
Dj'essings. —Roller
bandages are not recom-
mended, save to men already trained to use them
properly. Anybody, on the other hand, can apply
the small ready-to-use Red Cross dressings, and
adhesive plaster for strapping them on where they
cannot be tied. For large wounds, the triangular
bandage in a soldier's packet is easy for anyone to
use, as there are cuts and directions printed on it
showing how to apply it to any part of the person.
A
roll of adhesive plaster (zinc oxide plaster) is
almost indispensable; but never apply it directly to
a wound —
first cover the hurt with a sterilized pad.
Court plaster, although the commonest of first-aid
dressings, is the poorest. It is likely to be surgically
unclean, and has no antiseptic properties, but, on the
contrary, it seals up the wound so as to confine
whatever germs may have invaded veryit — the
worst thing it could do, for it defeats Nature in her
effort to get rid of the poison by suppuration. Flex-

ible collodion ("new skin") is likely to do the same
thing, unless the cut or abrasion is first sterilized
with a strong antiseptic.
Never turn a compress (or other dressing) over
and use the other side; it is infected.
Antiseptics. —
Such dressings, however, are not
enough in themselves to cleanse wounds and keep
them free from infection. A
supply of some good
antiseptic is indispensable in the kit. Those com-
monly used domestic practice are either bulky
in
liquids, impracticable on a "go-light" trip, or in-
effective powders, like boric acid, that are only sooth-
ing, not really germicidal.
Mercury bichloride (corrosive sublimate) is a
powerful agent, but it is so corrosive that it does
not make fit solutions in metal vessels, which are
all that a woodsman or explorer has. Besides, it
is a deadly poison. Carbolic acid in solution is too

bulky, and the full-strength liquid is mean to carry
on a rough trip.
Hitherto I have recommended
Iodine; but a
bottle of it will make a
sad mess of things if it leaks
or breaks; an ampule in the pocket case serves for
but one treatment, and, being in a wooden tube, is
bulk}^ in proportion. Iodine is poisonous, corrosive,
painful In use, and impossible on delicate tissues.
It has the further disadvantage that it clots blood
serum, and so cannot penetrate a punctured wound
unless the hole open with a knife.
is slit
Thanks to the discoveries of Dr. Carrel, with

calcium hj^pochlorite, In the military hospitals of
France, and of Dr. Dakin, who has produced a
chlorine-carrier that does not deteriorate, we now
have what seems to be the ideal antiseptic. I am
at present using Dakin's antiseptic, as made here
under the trade name of chlorazene. It Is put up
in tablet form. Chlorazene is neither poisonous nor
corrosive In any marked degree. It can be employed,
in proper solution, anywhere, even In the eye, as
well as for sterilizing Instruments and the hands of
the operator. Yet It Is one of the most powerful
of all known antiseptics.
Stimulants. — In many accidents a stimulant is
required. Don't carry whiskey If you don't drink —

it up yourself the first time you feel bad, then some-
one wÎll surely steal It. For the camp medical kit,
get a bottle of pure grain alcohol. Put a fake
label on It
—"Antiseptic —
Poison" ^wlth a death's- —
head that even a savage wÎll understand. For In-
ternal use, give a teaspoonful of it In three times
the quantity of water. For dressing wounds, or
giving an alcohol rub, use three parts alcohol to
two of water; for a sprain, half-and-half.
Another good and quickly diffusible stimulant Is
aromatic spirits of ammonia, one teaspoonful in half

a glass of water. It Is useful for various other
purposes that will be mentioned later.
No liquid can well be carried In a pocket emer-

gency case ; but there Is room for a few strychnine
sulphate tablets to be used as a heart tonic and
nerve bracer in case of snake bite, shock, exhaus-
tion, alcoholism, or as may otherwise be needed.
The dose is 1-30 grain hypodermically or 1-20 grain
by mouth.
Emetics. —To treat poisoning, and some other
ailments, an emetic is required. A
tablespoonful of
salt, or of dry mustard, in half a pint of lukewarm
water, will serve the purpose. Repeat if necessary.
—
Liniments and Lotions. Most of the "patent"
liniments are humbugs, considering the claims made
for them. Treatment with heat or cold, as the
case may be, is far more curative, nine times out of
ten, and an alcohol rub will take good care of the
other tenth.
An excellent and
astringent lotion for sprains
bruises can be prepared by dissolving in water one
or more tablets of lead acetate and opium, which
are small enough for the emergency kit.
Wherever witch hazel grows, one can make his
own decoction (strong "tea") of the bark; it is also
good as a poultice. The inner bark of kinnikinick,
otherwise known as red willow or silky cornel,
makes a good astringent poultice for sprains and
bruises.
Ointments. —^These seldom are good applications
for wounds. Grease attracts and holds dirt; dirt
breeds infection. But there is proper use for some
zinc ointment, unguentine, or carbolized
resinol,
vaseline, in cases of skin affections, sunburn, ivy
poisoning, erysipelas, blistered feet, and so on.
Extemporized Dressings. —In caseno regular
antiseptic is at hand, there are pretty good wound
dressings to be found in the woods. Balsam ob-
tained by pricking the little blisters on the bark of
balsam firs is one of them. Others are the honey-
like gum of the liquidambar or sweet gum tree, raw
turpentine from any pine tree, and the resin pro-
cured by boxing (gashing) a cypress or hemlock
—
tree, or by boiling a knot of the wood and skimming
ofi the surface. All of these resins are antiseptic,
and the first two are soothing.
Poultices may be needed to relieve the tension of
an Inflamed part and to hasten suppuration ("draw
the pus to a head"). They have no other curative
effect than hot-water compresses, but act more effi-
ciently because they hold the heat better and do not
require so frequent renewal. A
poultice is easily
made from cornmeal or oatmeal (flaxseed is not
supposed to be in the kit). Mix by stirring a little
at a time into boiling water, making a thick paste
free from lumps then spread on cloth to a thickness
;
of 3^-Inch, leaving a i^-lnch margin all around

for folding In. The poultice should be made
thoroughly antiseptic by dissolving tablets in the
water. To prevent It from sticking, grease the
part or smear It wnth oil. Then put on the poultice
and, If convenient, cover wÎth a waterproof material.
Remember that a cold poultice does no good what-
ever, and that an old one should not be reheated
make a new one. Renew a large poultice everv
four or five hours, a small one every one or two
hours.
The wôods themselves afford plenty of materials
for good poultices. Chief of these Is slippery elm,
the mucilaginous inner bark of w^hich, boiled In
water and kneaded Into a poultice. Is soothing to
inflammation and softens the tissues. Good poul-
tices can also be made from the soft rind of tama-
rack, the root bark of basswood or cottonwood,
and many other trees or plants. None of these
should be spread more than l4~i"ch thick. Our
frontiersmen, like the Indians, often treated wounds
by merely applying the chewed fresh leaves of alder,
striped maple (moosewoody, or sassafras. You may
remember Leatherstocking (he was "Hawkeye"
then) advising a wounded companion that "a little
bruised alder wîll work like a charm." Saliva carries
r.erms: so don't chew but bruise the leaves.
\ poultice of the leaves of the common plantain
weed is a first-rate application for burns, scalds,
bruises, erysipelas, and ivy poisoning. The pow-
dered leaf applied as a paste, or simply the dry leaf
powdered, stops bleeding in a short time.
Mustard plasters are used as counter-irritants.
A strong one is made of equal parts of dry mustard
and flour; for gentler effect use less mustard in pro-
portion. Make into a paste with lukewarn, water,
and spread between layers of thin cloth. Leave it
on 15 to 20 minutes, or until the skin is well
reddened.
Heat and Cold. —Direct application of heat is
one of the prime resources of first-aid. canteen A

will do instead of a hot-water bag, or a hot stone
may be rolled in blanketing or other thick cloth but ;
a better expedient, because it shapes itself to what-
ever part it is applied to, is a bag partly filled with

hot sand, salt, rice, or the like. The stuff may be
heated quickly in a frying-pan. If the patient is
unconscious, you must be careful not to burn him.
Observe his skin, frequently, and feel the cover of
the hot article, which should not rise above 115 deg.
To produce the most effect, heat should be applied
between the thighs, between the arms and the body,
and to the soles of the feet. Cloths wrung out in
hot water, then inclosed in dry ones, are the best
means to reduce swelling after an injury.
Cold is used also to reduce swelling, as well as
to stimulate breathing, and to reduce temperature
in sunstroke. Of course, ice cannot be obtained
in the wilderness, save in winter, but, if the affected
part cannot be soaked in a running stream, then
cloths may be wrung out in water from a spring or
cold brook, or an arrangement can be rigged to dis-
charge a continuous stream of it upon the patient.
Unconsciousness. — If you should find a person

lying in a stupor or quite unconscious, seek the
cause, before treating him, or you may do more
harm than good. be a case of drowning or
If it
freezing,you will know at once. Sunstroke is

marked by a hot, dry skin. Bleeding, bruises, and
swelling speak for themselves. If, however, there
are none of these symptoms, examine the patient

with care.
Observe, first, w^hether the face is pale or flushed.
If pale, and the pupils of the eyes are natural, it is
a simple case of fainting; if the pupils are dilated,

the face pale, with cold sweat, the pulse weak and
quick, probably there has been concussion of the
brain.
On the other hand, a flushed and turgid face,
respiration snoring, a slow and symp-
full pulse, are
toms common to apoplexy, drunkenness, and opium
poisoning. It is very important to distinguish be-
tween these. Odor of liquor in the breath is not
conclusive for a person struck down by apoplexy
;
may have been drinking. A

drunken man may have
fallen and suffered concussion of the brain, thus
complicating the case.
In apoplexy due to hemorrhage in the brain, one
side of the patient generally is paralyzed. He can-
not be aroused, even with ammonia to the nose.
His eyeballs are not sensitive to touch. man A
drunk or "doped" generally can be aroused for a
moment by dashing cold water in his face. bottle A
of liquor, laudanum, or morphine, is likely to be
found on or near him. In alcoholic poisoning the
pupils are dilated and equal; in opium poisoning,
they are extremely contracted.
—
Drowning. Clean any mud or water from the
mouth with a handkerchief on the finger, loosen all
tight clothing, and expose the chest and waist. Slip
your hands under the man's waist and lift him high
enough for his head to hang down and drain the
water out of him. Give two or three quick, smart-
ing slaps on his naked chest with the open hand.
If this fails to restore breathing, then start at once
;

to perform artificial respiration. The best way
for an inexperienced person, or for one who has to
work alone, is what is called the ''prone-pressure
method," as follows:
Turn the patient face downward on the ground,
arms extended above the head, face to one side. If
his tongue does not fall forward, grasp it with a
handkerchief and pull it out, so that air may enter.
Kneel astride of him, and grasp him firmly on
both sides of the chest, just above lower margin of
ribs. Press steadily and heavily downward and
forward, for three seconds^ to expel the air from the
lungs. Then, gradually (two seconds) release the
pressure. The elasticity of the chest makes it ex-
pand and draw air into the lungs. Repeat this op-
eration with a regular rhythm of 12 to 15 to the
minute. You will conserve your own strength by
swinging your body forward and backward so as
to let your weight fall vertically upon the wrists
and then be released.
While you are doing this, if there is an assistant,
have him remove the patient's wet clothing, dry him
without rubbing, and cover him with a dry blanket
or articles of clothing; but do not let this interrupt
your own work for a singje moment. Do not rub
nor apply heat to restore circulation until natural
breathing has been established to do so might be ;
fatal.
Continue this treatment until the subject shows
signs of life then, with more gentle pressure, until
;
the breath comes naturally. There must be no let

up. Two or more helpers can work in relays,
changing about without losing the "stroke." In
most cases the patient revives within thirty minutes
but it may take an hour or two of continuous work
to restore life. Do not be discouraged.
As soon as natural breathing has been restored,
rub the person's limbs and body with firm pressure
toward the heart, to bring back circulation. Now
wrap him in warm blankets and apply hot stones

or other dry heat, as described early in this chapter.
When he can swallow, give him hot stimulants, a
little at a time. Then let him sleep.
Rescue of the Drowning. —
In case you must
swim for the drowning person, then, if possible at
the moment, take with you a float of some sort for
him to cling to. It takes only a small buoyant
object to support a man's head above water. Cast
off at least your shoes before striking out.
When you get near, shout cheerily that you will
get him out all right if he does not struggle. But
a drowning person is likely to get frantic, as soon
as water enters his lungs, and grasp desperately at
a rescuer. So be cool and wârj^ You must man-
oeuvre for position, lest he drown you both. If he
harm will be done it may
sinks once or twice, little —
even be for the best. The first two sinkings are
very slow, and he does not go down deep.
Get at him from behindj if possible. If he turns
on you and tries to seize you, reach your left arm
forward and push him away with your hand
against his lower jaw. He may succeed in gripping
your arm: in that case, turn so as to get your foot
under his chest, and push him away with a powerful
kick. If he should be strong enough, however, to
hold you in a grip that you cannot loosen, then take
a good breath and sink with him. You can stand
it longer than he can; his hold will relax before
your own- air gives out. The "death grip" that

never loosens is common in fiction, but rarely, if
ever, in fact. In the unlikely event that he should
hold out longer than you consider safe, strike him
in the face and break loose. This sounds brutal,
but it may be the only way to save him, and your-
self, too.
If the person is tractable, or has wêakened until
no longer dangerous, get him by the hair, or by an
inside hold on the collar, and. swimming ahead ai
432 CAMPIlNCi AND WOODCRAFT
him on your back or side, tow him out. If he is
naked and short-haired, then, if he is not insanely

struggling, he can be rescued by approaching from
behind, rolling him suddenly on his back, turning
on your own back, partly under him, and drawing
his head up on jôur chest. A
child or woman, even
though struggling, may be managed in this way if
you seize one of the wrists and pull it behind the
person's head. Then swim out on your back.
When a drowning man has sunk to the bottom,
in smooth water, his exact position is shown by aii
bubbles that occasionally arise.
If some one has broken through the ice, and then
is no plank nor rope to be had, lie down fiat on your
belly and crawl out near enough to reach him a
stick or toss one end of your coat to him. Then
back out, still lying flat, so as to distribute youi
weight over as much surface as possible, and puU
while he helps himself as well as he can.
Cramp while Swimmhig. This may result —
from going into the water too soon after eating, or
when overheated, or from staying in so long as to
become chilled. It Is not serious for a swimmer
who keeps his wits, but if he gets frightened it may
cost his life. Turn on your back and keep your
chest inflated. Float, and swim with the unaffected
limbs. Even If you be far from shore, the cramped
member may soon relax if you keep cool.
—
Suffocation. If a person has suffocated from
inhaling gas or smoke, or from cbokfng or hanging,
get him Into the fresh air a? quid'ly as possible,
loosen his clothing, sprinkle cold w^ter on face and
bare chest, and, It he still fails to breathe, perform
artificial respiration as for drowning. Then apply
heat and give a stimulant.
—
Fainting. If attacked with vertigo, b(î?d your
head down so It between the knees, to h'^lo the
Is
blood into It do not keep this up If not 7)rompt'v

;
effective. Cold air, and sprmkling with cold water,

often prevents fainting;
one has fainted, take him into the fresh air
If
and lay him on his back, with feet higher than head
(unless the face is flushed or blue). Loosen the
clothing. Spatter the face and chest with cold
water. Rub limbs toward the heart. Apply am-
monia to the nose. When consciousness has re-
turned, give a stimulant, or put the patient to bed
and apply heat.
Never raise a fainting person to a sitting posture.
Shock. — In case of collapse following an acci-
dent, operation, or fright: treat first as for fainting.
Then w^rap the person in blankets, apply heat, and
rub his limbs toward the body, keeping him wêll
^rrapped up the while. If he is conscious, and not
bleeding externally or internally, give him hot tea
or coffee, or just one good drink of liquor, or am-
monia. But if the shock is from an injury and
attended by bleeding, the first thing to do is to check
the flow of blood.
Stunning (Concussion of the Brain). Lay the —
man on his back with head somewhat raised. Hot
water poured on his head will help to arouse him.
Apply heat as for shock, but keep the head cool
with cold wet cloths. Rub his limbs. Ammonia
may be held under the nose, but do not give any
stimulant: that would drive the blood to the brain^
where it is not wanted. Keep the patient quiet.
Light diet and laxatives.
—
Lightning Stroke. If the heart has stopped,
the case is fatal. If not, but breathing is suspended,
practice artificial respiration for at least half an
hour, and other treatment as for drowning. Elec-
tric burns are treated like any other.
—
Sunstroke. Observe the difference between
this and heat exhaustion (see below). In sunstroke
proper the face is red, the skin very hot and dry,
and the subject is quite unconscious. Lay him in
a cool place ;
position same as for stunning. Remove
as much of his clothing as practicable. Hold a ves-
sel or hatful of cold water four or five feet above
him, and pour a stream first on his head, then on
his body, and last on his extremities. Continue
until consciousness returns. If this cannot be done,
then rub cold cloths over face, neck, chest, and
armpits. Hold ammonia under the nose. When
the patient becomes conscious, let him drink cold
water freely,but no stimulants.
Heat Exhaustion. —
Generally the person is
conscious, but very depressed and weak. His face

is pale and covered with clammy sweat. Do not
apply cold externally, but let him sip cold water.
Give a little strong black coffee, or a mild stimulant.
Let him rest in bed.
Apoplexy. —^When a blood-vessel bursts in the
brain, the subject falls unconscious. The face is
flushed, lips blue, eyelids half open, eyes insensitive
and slow,
to touch, respirations snoring, pulse full
skin usually cool. Generally one side of the body
is parah/zed. The case may or may not be fatal.
Lay the patient In bed with head and shoulders
propped up. Apply cold cloths to the head and heat
tc the limbs. No stimulants. Absolute quiet and
rest.
Alcoholism. — If you find a man lying appar-
ently dead drunk, make sure, first, that It Is not a
case of apoplexy.
Usually a dash of cold water in the face will
rouse a drunken man. Make him vomit. Then a
cup of hot coffee will aid to settle the stomach and
clear the mind. To sober quickly, and brace him
up, administer a teaspoonful of aromatic spirits of
ammonia in half a cup of water.
If the skin Is cold and clammy, lay him in a
comfortable position, apply dry heat, keep the man
covered, and rub his limbs toward the body to In-
crease circulation. Keep the bowels open. Feed
first with concentrated broth or soup well seasoned
with red pepper. Give him some liquor at judici-

ous Intervals, If it can be procured (to deny It Is
a brutality of ignorance) until he gets on his feet.
But if there is none, give him red pepper tea (enough
cayenne steeped in hot water to make the stomach
tingle). This braces his nerves and helps to avert
"the horrors."
If threatened with collapse, apply heat, and inject
strychnine.
In delirium tremens, watch the patient carefully,
that he may not injure himself or others, or commit
suicide; but avoid physical restraint as far as pos-
sible. The serious sj'mptoms are due chiefly to
sleeplessness, which is to be combatted with such
means as you have at hand. Try trional, veronal,
or a bromide, if you can get them. An opiate is the
last resort. If the heart wêakens, give ammonia or
strychnine.
—
Fit or Convulsion. Kneel by the patient's head
place one arm under it, and undo collar and belt.
Insert in the mouth something that he cannot swal-
low, such as a stick, or a pocket-knife wrapped in
handkerchief, to prevent the tongue from being bit-
ten. Get him away from anything against which
he might strike and injure himself, but do not try
to open his hands or restrain his movements. When
the attack has passed, do not rouse, but let him
sleep, with warmth to the feet.
Hysteria. —Do nothing. Appear quite indif-
ferent. A show of sympathy will only make mat-
ters worse.
Ptomaine Poisoning. —The exciting cause is
eating certain varieties of food that have partly putre-

fied, such as meat, sausage, fish, shellfish, cheese, and
especially, in the case of campers, canned meats, etc.,
that have spoiled.

It is distinguished from cholera morbus by marked
nervous symptoms (t\vitching of facial muscles,
tingling sensations, dilated pupils, breathlessness,
dizziness, perhaps convulsions) and usually a low
temperature.
Cause repeated vomiting by giving three or four
glasses of warm water, each containing salt or must-
ard. Then give stimulants to support the heart
and nerve force. Put the victim to bed, with head
low, and apply dry heat. If a syringe can be pro-
cured, empty the lower bowel with an injection of
soapsuds and water. After a thorough cleaning out,
give an intestinal antiseptic.
Poisoning from Mushrooms (or from un-
—
known plants) Treat as for ptomaine poisoning. In
case of mushroom poisoning, if the patient can swal-
low, get some charcoal from the camp-fire, powder
and administer it. This may absorb much of the poi-
son. Castor oil is the best purgative, to be followed
by a soapsuds enema. Atropine by injection, if you
have it; otherwise, unless you can get a physician
within two or three hours, the chance of recovery is
slight; but do your best.
—
Snake Bite. The only dangerous snakes in the
United States are the rattlesnake, the copperhead,
and the cottonmouth moccasin. The small coral
snake (harlequin, bead snake) of the Gulf states,
and the Sonoran coral snake of New Mexico and
Arizona, are somewhat venomous, but their bite is
not fatal to a healthy adult. The Gila monster of
the Southwest is a dangerous lizard —
the only one
that is venomous —
but can scarcely be provoked to
bite.
All other snakes and lizards of our country and
—
Canada are harmless their bite is no more to be
feared than that of a mouse. The notion that the
bite of our so-called ''puff-adder, " "spreading adder,"
''blowing viper," must be dangerous, because the
snake puff's up its neck and hisses like a goose, or that
the common watersnake is a moccasin and conse-
quently venomous, is all moonshine, like the story
of the hoop-snake and the snake with a poisonous
sting in its tail.
However, that other notion that a rattlesnake's

bite is not a serious matter is moonshine, too. Men
who know nothing about other rattlers than the
little rattlesnake are not competent to ex-
prairie
press an opinion on the subject.
A
bite from any venomous snake is dangerous, in
proportion to the size of the snake, and to the amount
of venom that enters the circulation. A
bite that
does not pierce an important blood vessel is seldom
fatal, even if no treatment is given, unless the snake
be quite large.
The rattlesnake, copperhead, and cottonmouth are
easily distinguished from all other snakes, as all
nostril
Fig. 192. — Head of rattlesnake (after Stejneger)
three of them bear a peculiar mark, or rather a pair

of marks, that no other animal possesses. The mark
is the pit, which is a deep cavity on each side of the
facebetween the nostril and the eye, sinking into
the upper jawbone. Its position is shown in the
accompanying cut (Fig. 192). All of them have an
upright elliptical, instead of round, pupil in the eye.
All venomous snakes have fangs, and no harmless
ones have them. The fangs are in the upper jaw
only. In the coral snakes they are permanently
erect, but in the other venomous snakes here named
they lie flat against the roof of the mouth, when not
in use, pointing backward, and are erected by the
reptile in striking. They are long, slender, sharply
pointed, perforated like a hypodermic needle, and
connected by a duct with the venom glands which lie
behind the e^-es. Auxiliary fangs lie in a sac under-
neath the regular fang on each side, and, in case
—
the latter is broken ofi or extracted, a new fang will
be ready for business within a few days.
Here are a few characteristics of the pit vipers,
as our three deadly snakes collectively are called:
1. Copperhead (also called deaf adder, upland
moccasin, pilot snake, chunk head). —A small snake,
2 to 3 feet long, with moderately thick body, broad
and triangular head quite distinct from the neck,
tail short, dark colored, and pointed. Color of
back, a bronze hazel or light reddish brown with 15 ;
to 20 darker bands, which are narrow on the back

and expand to wide blotches on the flanks, the shape
oeing somewhat like that of a dumb-bell with very
short handle. Head, a bright copper-red, with two
small dark-brown spots close together on the fore-
head at upper part of head-shield, and with a cream-
colored band around the mouth.
The copperhead inhabits the mountainous and hilly
regions from Massachusetts southward to the Gulf,
and westward (south of Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa,
and Nebraska) to Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas.
Its venom is as deadly as that of the rattlesnake,
but not secreted in as large quantity as that of
it is
the larger rattlers; consequently the wound is not

likely to be so serious. Still, the copperhead is a
particularly dangerous creature, because it gives na

warning of its presence, nor, according to my ob-
servation, does it try to get out of the way, but holds
its ground and springs at any intruder.
Only one species.
2. Cottonmouth moccasin (water moccasin).

A larger snake, ordinarily about 3 ft., sometimes
4 ft. long. Stout body, head shaped like that of
the copperhead and similarly distinct from the neck.
Back brown, reddish, or olive, with 11 to 15 rather
inconspicuous bars, or pairs of bars, of dark brown,
'with light centers on each flank. Tail short, pointed,
and dark brown or banded. Belly brownish-yellow
mottled with dark blotches.
Habitat, North Carolina southward to the Gulf,
westward through Kentucky, southern Illinois, and
Missouri, to Oklahoma and eastern Texas.
Not so poisonous as the larger kinds of rattle-
snakes, but still dangerous to human life. Quite
numerous in the southern states. More aggressive
than the rattlesnake, striking at everything within
reach; but usually rather deliberate about striking,
first opening its mouth widely for some seconds, as
if to intimidate, and showing the white interior
(hence the name "cottonmouth"). Usually found
near water, and often on low limbs overhanging the
water.
Only one species. The other so-called "moc-
casins" are either the copperhead or harmless snakes.
3. Rattlesnake. — Of rattlers we have no less than
sixteen species, but only two of them, the massasauga
and the banded or timber rattlesnake, are found in
the eastern and central states. The little prairie
rattlesnake, which is not very dangerous, is abundant
on the plains west of the Missouri River. The
great diamond rattlesnake of the South, which some-
times grows to a length of nearly nine feet, is the
most formidable member of this group. The small
ground rattlesnake of the southern states is aggres-
sive, and gives only a faint warning, and on this ac-
count is more dreaded by the negroes than the larger
species; but its bite is seldom fatal to grown people.
The other species are confined to the Southwest and
the Pacific coast.
Rattlesnakes are easily identified by their rattles.
These generally last only long enough to become 8

or 10 jointed. Rattles with as many as 15 to 18
joints are quite rare. The number of rattles does
lot indicate the snake's age. Their office is not clearly
understand. Doctor Stejneger says: "They are a
substitute for a voice."
When a rattlesnake sees a man approaching, it
generally lies quiet to escape observation, so long as

It thinks itself concealed. It seldom strikes unless
provoked. If alarmed when it is wide-awake, it
nearly always springs its rattle before striking, the

sound being very similar to that made by our com-
mon "locust" or cicada. If the reptile Is trodden on
when asleep, it strikes like lightning, and does its
rattling afterward. Unfortunately for us, the pois-
onous snakes do their sleeping in the day time and
hunt at night. They are prone to seek the warmth
of bed-clothes, and sometimes will coil up alongside
of a sleeping man. Mosquito netting is an effective
bar against snakes. Snakes despise musk, tobacco,
and turpentine.
A snake is not obliged to coil before striking, but
can strike from any position ; it will coil first, how-
ever, unless attacked very suddenly or taken at a
disadvantage. A
snake does not intentionally
throw its venom but, if it misses its mark, the act
;
of hissing may throw the poison several feet. The

blow is delivered with lightning rapidity, and the
fangs are instantly sunk into the victim. No snake
can leap entirely from the ground, nor can it strike
more than two-thirds Its own length, unless it bar-
the advantage of striking downhill or from somt

purchase on a rock or bush. A
snake does not ex-
pend all its venom at one blow. It is not rendered
permanently harmless by extracting its fangs, for
auxiliary ones, in various stages of development, lie
in a sac in the roof of themouth, and the foremost

of these soon will emerge and be ready for business.
The venoms of different species of snakes differ in
composition and in action. That of the cobra, for
example, attacks the nerve centers of the cerebro-
spinal sj'stem, causing paralysis that extends to the
lungs and finally to the heart, but the local symp-
toms are not very severe. In marked contrast are
the effects of rattlesnake bite, which spread very
rapidly through the sj^stem, making the blood thin
^nd destroying its power to clot. The wound ic
speedily discolored and swollen. Within about fif-
teen minutes, no cautery or ligature or serum in-

if
jection has been applied, the victim becomes dull and

languid, breathing with difficulty. The venom first
enfeebles the heart, then the lungs. Great swell-
ing and discoloration extend up the limbs and trunic.
The temperature rises, the victim staggers, becomes
prostrated, is attacked with cold sweats and vomit-
ing, may swoon repeatedly, and death may ensue
wîthin ten or twelve hours. If an important blood
vessel has been pierced by a fang and considerable
venom injected, the victim may die within twenty
minutes.
Rattlesnake poison has a tendency to rot the blood-
vessels, and may cause a general seepage of blood
throughout the system. In some cases a whole limb
is soaked to the bone with decomposed blood. Fre-
quently there is suppuration, and gangrene may set
in, from which a patient who had recovered from
the constitutional symptoms may die a week or more

after the injury was received.
Much depends upon the part struck, and the quan-
tity of venom injected. Often it happens that only
one fang penetrates, or only the surface of the skin
may be scratched. Bites on the bare skin are more
dangerous than those received through the clothing.
In a large majority of cases the wound does not
touch a blood-vessel directly, and the patient will
recover with no other treatment than a ligature
promptly applied, and a free cutting and kneading
of the wound to expel as much as possible of the
poison beforeit has had time to enter the circulation.
Such measures, however, must be taken at once, as

absorption works quickly.
—
Remedies. The only positive antidote for snake
poison, after it has entered the circulation, is anti-
venom serum. This is prepared by injecting into
a horse or mule a fractional dose of the venom of a
snake, or a mixture of those of different species
When the animal recovers from the effects of this
preliminary dose, a slightly larger one is injected,
and so on, every two or three weeks, for a year or
two. Finally the serum of the animal's blood has
developed an anti-toxin that makes him immune to
snake venom. Some of his blood is then withdrawn,
and the serum is separated, sterilized, and put up
either in liquid or dried form in sealed tubes. These
must Ix kept in a cool, dark place, to preserve the
serum from deteriorating. A large hypodermic
syringe used to inject the serum into a patient.
is
This treatment will cure the gravest cases of snake

bite, if employed before the victim has collapsed.
As it is not toxic, it is safe for even inexperienced
people to use.
As I have said, there are marked differences In
the nature and effects of venoms, according to the
species of snake. Cobra venom, from which the
Chalmette serum
principally derived,
is while
effective such bites as would be re-
in treating
ceived in India, is not so sure a remedy In
our country as an anti-venom developed by using
the poison of rattlesnakes or other species of the
Crotalidae. To cure bites Inflicted by the deadly
snakes of South Africa, Fitzslmons employs a mix-
ture of venoms from various species In that region
with which to Immunize horses and develop a remed-
ial serum. In South America, Dr. Vital Brazil, of
the Institute of Serum-Therapy of Sao Paulo has
made several types of serums that are specific for
bites of the rattlesnake, the lance-head snake, the
coral snakes, respectively, and one compounded from
three venoms, to be used when the Identity of the
snake is unknown.
The chief disadvantage of anti-venom serum Is
that Its kit Is too bulky to be carried habitually on

the person. however, It Is kept in camp, and
If,
a first-aid remedy for snake bite Is always In one's

pocket during the snake season, the adventurer need
fear no snakes whatever.
;

The first-aid for snake bite is very simple and
compact. It consists merely of a little permanganate
of potash (potassium permanganate) and a lancet or
a sharp penknife blade, with belt or other article of
clothing that can be used like a tourniquet. The
permanganate can be used either in crystals or in
tablet form. It must be carried in a waterproof
container of glass or rubber. A convenient ar-
rangement is a hard rubber tube resembling a fount-
ain pen, but only 2^2 inches long and weighing less
than an ounce, which is sold for a dollar by some
outfitters. One of the capped ends contains some
permanganate, and the other a small spear-shaped
lancet (to be honed keen before it is fit to use).
Permanganate of potash merely neutralizes such
venom as it comes in direct contact with it does not
;
follow up the poison and kill at a distance from the

wound. Since snake venom diftuses rapidly through
the system, it is absolutely necessary to use the pei-
manganate quickly. If more than three minutes
have elapsed before application, its value is doubtful
if more than five minutes or six minutes, it will do
no good at all.
Treatment. (i). —When one has been struck

by a venomous snake, he should waste no time
chasing the creature to kill it. Within a minute,
at most, he should have a ligature bound between
the wound and his body to cut off the return flow
of blood and lymph to the heart. (It is assumed
that he has been struck in a limb, as generally
happens.) The ligature may be a neckerchief,
handkerchief, or a strip of cloth torn from the
shirt, twisted, and tied as tightly as possible around
the limb. A belt w4th tongueless buckle is excel-
lent for the purpose. A
stout cord will do. If
the bite is an\^vhere below the knee, apply the
ligature just above the knee if below the elbow,
;
then just above the elbow, because here there is

only one bone and compression is more effective.
Another may be tied closer to the wound if a foot
or hand has been bitten.
44+ CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT
Do not twist the ligature up so tightly with a
stick as to bruise the flesh. Remember, its object
is not to compress an artery, but only the veins,
all of which lie near the surface.
(2). Make three parallel cuts, say an inch long
and a quarter-inch deep, lengthwise of the limb
and through the seat of the wound, then two criss-
cross through the fang punctures (unless the bite
be on the wrist or top of foot, where you might
sever sinews). This is better than a simple X-cut
because it makes the wound bleed more freely and
opens it more thoroughly to receive the perman-
ganate. Plenteous bleeding carries out a good deal
of the poison by itself. Assist it by squeezing or
"milking" the wound. The poison of North Amer-
ican snakes (not of the cobra) is harmless to the
stomach, and so it may be sucked out, provided that
the operator has no hollow tooth, nor scratch or
abrasion of the mouth, through which it might
reach the circulation. It is useless to suck merely
the tiny fang punctures
open.
— you must first cut them
(3). Moisten, with saliva, enough of the per-

manganate to fill the wound (if it is in tablets,
crush two or three of them in the palm of the
hand) and rub it thoroughly into the cuts. It is
extremely caustic but the emergency calls for heroic
;
treatment.
(4). If you have a companion, send him at
once for the anti-venom kit, or for a doctor. If you
are alone, and far from help, stay where you are.
Moving about would only force circulation and
aggravate the case. The chances are fine for
your recovery without any further treatment. If
3'ou have strychnine, swallow 1-20 grain to stimulate
the heart and nerves, whenever you feel them "going
back on you." Or, if you have it, use whiskey or
ammonia.
Whiskey is not an antidote; It has no effect at
all on the venom Its service Is simply as a stimulant
;
for the murderously attacked heart and lungs, and

as a bracer to the victim's nerves, thus helping him
over the crisis. For this purpose some pretty stiff
drinks may be needed, if strychnine is not to be
had but don't guzzle inordinately an
; ; excess, by
its depressive reaction later, may weaken the system
alarmingly after the venom itself has been con-
quered.
(5). In half an hour you should gradually loos-
en the ligature, permitting some blood to flow back
from the injured limb and fresh blood to enter it.
Then tighten again. This admits only a little of
the poison at a time to the heart. Repeat the al-
ternate tightening and loosening at intervals for a
considerable time, until the danger is over. To
leave the ligature unloosened for more than an hour,
at the farthest, would put you in grave danger of
gangrene.
—
Herbal Remedies. Many species of wîld
plants are supposed to have the property of counter-
acting the effects of the poison of serpents. In any
backwoods community you may find some one who
claims to know some sovereign herb that will do
this. In the seventh edition of my Book of Camp-
ing and Woodcraft (1915) I named many of these
plants and discussed them. This book is out of
j
print, but may be consulted in public libraries by
anyone curious in such matters. Scientists of to-
day have no faith whatever in herbal "cures."
1 There are plants that will assist Nature in the
\ way of heart and nerve stimulants, or possibly by
inducing copious sweating; but there is none that
I acts as a real antidote against snake poisoning. As
I
for the backwoodsmen who use herbs as "snake-
I
masters," it will be observed that they have firm
i
faith in the efficacy of "lots o' whiskey" as an ad-
;
juvant, if not as a panacea sine qua non.
\
One time I asked an old moonshiner, "Quill'*
j
(that was his first name) "if a snake bit you, when
\
you had no whiskey, what would you do?"
"And no liquor to be had?"
"Yes."
"Sir, if a snake tuk sich advantage of me, I'd
throw him in the fire!"
—
Bites of Other Animals. Ordinarily the bite
of a non-venomous animal needs no other attention
than cleansing and an antiseptic dressing, unless
there is enough laceration meas-
to require surgical
ures. Still, the any animal, from mouse
bite of
to man, may be dangerous. Germs from foul
teeth may be carried into the wound. Vindictive and
long-sustained anger sometimes seems to create a
virus in the saliva, so that the bite of a teased and
infuriated animal may act almost as a venom. If
there be reasonable doubt, cauterize the wound as
for snake bite, or with nitrate of silver, or with a
nail brought to a white heat (not so painful as if
only red-hot). This will not, in all likihood, pre-
vent an attack of hydrophobia if the animal was
rabid, but it will kill such other poison or germs as
may have been introduced.
—
Rabies. Hydrophobia (fear or aversion for
water) is only a symptom, and is shown only by
man, not, as is commonly believed, by dogs. Not-
withstanding that there are cranks (even a few of
them in the medical profession) who assert that
there is no such disease as rabies, it is in fact the
most terrible ailment that afflicts mankind. In a
great majority of cases, unless the patient is given
the Pasteur treatment in due time, he will suffer
the most excruciating agony, and death is certain,
since no known drug is of any avail. Faith in the
curative powers of **the madstone" is nothing but a
superstition: the compacted fiber from an animal's
stomach, or calculus, or porous stone, which goes
by that name merely clings if there happens to be
a discharge of blood or pus from the wound, and
draws out no virus whatever for there is none in
;
the circulation —
the virus of rabies travels along the
nerves.
Epidemics of rabies are by no means confined to
domesticated animals. They occur among wolves,
ioxes. jackals, hjênas, bears, skunks, rats, and even
:

among birds. It is likely that this disease accounts
for the sudden disappearance of certain animals
fiom a given when
other explanations fail,
locality,
as was the case with wolves in the AUeghanies about
the beginning of the 19th century.* In Arizona
and other parts of the Southwest it is generally
believed that the bite of the little spotted or rock
skunk is more than likely to transmit rabies so ;
the animal often is called ''hydrophobia skunk." I

have already discussed this matter in Vol. I., p. 262.
As regards symptoms, there are two types of
rabies
(1). —
Furiant or irritable. First the animal's dis-
position changes: if formerly playful, it becomes
morose; if quiet and dignified, it now grows un-
usually affectionate, as if seeking sympathy. In the
course of a day or two it becomes irritable, and may
snap if startled. It begins to wander about, and dis-
appears at intervals, hiding in corners or dark places,
from which it resents being removed. Its bark is
indiscribably changed. There is no appetite, and the
animal has difficulty in swallowing. Saliva may
dribble from the mouth, but it does not froth as in
a fit. Restlessness and irritability increase until the
beast becomes furious, biting at anything thrust to-
ward him, and even at imaginary objects. The
creature now. begins to take long journeys, and will
assault other animals, but never makes any outcry
during these attacks. Then signs of paralysis ap-
pear. It overcomes first his hind legs, then the
lower jaw, and ultimately becomes general. He dies
in from five to eight days after the appearance of
the symptoms.
(2). Dumb or paralytic. —This type is uncommon.
There is no marked irritability. The animal lies
stupidly in seclusion. Paralysis comes early and is
quickly progressive. Death usually ensues in two or
three days.
In man, the period between the bite and the ap-

pearance of the symptoms averages forty days. It
*See Notes on the Settlement and Indian Wars of the Western

Parts of Virginia and Pennsylvania, from 1763 to 17S3, by the
Rev. Dr. Josepli Doddridge, a contemporary and excellent
authority.
may be a jêar or more; It may be only two weeks,
or even less if the bite was a
bad, lacerating one
affecting important nerves, or in the face. Con-
sequently, when a man is bitten by an animal known
to be rabid, or by one that develops rabies within
less than forty days after it has inflicted the bite,
he should be sent at once to a Pasteur institute. If
he goes in time, he has ninety-nine chances in a
hundred to recover. Otherwise, unless the wound
was so superficial as to have done no injury under
the skin, and it was promptly cauterized, his chance
is scarce one in a hundred.
—
Insect Stings and Bites. These have already
been discussed at some length in Vol. L, pp. 241-259.
An application of honey, moistened salt, or of
ammonia, or a cloth saturated in a solution of bak-
ing soda, or even wet earth, will suffice in all
ordinary cases. Our most dangerous insect is the
common housefly: does not wipe
Wounds — **it
^There is no room
its feet."
in this chapter to
describe and illustrate the structure and mechanics
•of the body, nor how to apply bandages and splints,
nor to give any but general directions for the treat-
ment of wounds, dislocations and fractures. If one
is going far from medical help, I cannot too highly
recommend that he should take some Instruction In

such matters, or at least carry with him the very
clear and concise American Red Cross Abridged
Text-book on First Aid (general edition), by Major
Charles Lynch, of the Medical Corps, U. C. A.
This book, as wêll as a variety of first-aid packets
and fitted boxes, is sold by the American Red Cross,
Washington, D. C, from whom a catalogue may be
proc'jred on application.
Bleeding. — Rather free bleeding Is good for a
wound, because the blood washes out many. If not
all, of the dangerous pus germs that may have
entered at the time of the Injury. Do not touch
the wound with the fingers, nor with anything else
than a surgically clean Instrument and compress,
^^bservc whether the bleeding Is arterial or venous.
If it comes from a vei?!, the blood will be dark red
01 purplish, and will flow in a steady stream. If
an artery is cut or lacerated, the blood will be bright
red, and it probably will spurt in jets. Bind the.
compress on firmly. Generally this will suffice to
stop the bleeding.
In case of arterial bleeding, try to locate the
artery above the wound (between it and the heart)
by pressing very hard where you think the artery
may pass close to a bone, and watch if this checks
the flow. If so, then, if the vessel is only a small
one, just continue the pressure: it is likely that a
clot wall form and the artery close itself. In ex-
tremity, the flow from even a large artery can be
checked for a while by pressing very firmly with
thumb and finger directly into the wound. There
is record of an Austrian soldier who stopped bleed-
ing from the great artery of the thigh for four

hours by plugging the wound with his thumb if he ;
had let go for a minute he wôuld have bled to death.

But if the injury is so situated that a tourniquet
can be applied (anywhere except in the neck, body,
or very close to the body) one can readily be ex-
temporized.
—
Tourniquet. ^Tie a strong bandage (handker-
chief, belt, suspender, rope, strip of clothing) around
the wounded member, and between the wound and
the heart. Under it, and directly over the artery,
place a smooth pebble, a cartridge, piece of stick, or
other hard lump. Then thrust a stout stick under
the bandage, and twist until the wound stops bleed-
ing. The lump serves two purposes: it brings
the most pressure where it will do the most good,
and it allows passage of enough blood on either side
to keep the limb from being strangled to death.
However, do not apply more pressure than is needed
to stop the bleeding —
excessive pressure of a hard
lump may rupture the blood-vessel.
If the position of the artery above the wound
cannot be determined, then, in case of a gaping
wound that would be hard to plug, apply the tourni-
quet without any lump, and twist it very tight in-
deed. This can only be done for a short time, while
you are preparing to ligate the artery if prolonged,
;
it will kill the limb, and gangrene will ensue. In

case of a punctured wound, such as a bullet hole,
it is better to push a plug of sterilized gauze hard
aown in the wound itself, leaving the outer end

projecting so that a bandage will hold the plug firm-
ly on the artery. This must be done, anyway,
wherever a tourniquet cannot be used.
higating. —
^The above expedients are only tem-
porary; for a cut artery, if of any considerable size,
—
must be ligated that is to say, permanently closed
by tying one or both of the severed ends. To do
this you must have at least a pair of sharp-pointed
fcrceps or strong tweezers. Get hold of the end
of the artery with this, draw it out, and have some
one hold \\.. Then
take a piece of strong thread
that has been sterilized in boiling salt water (sup-
posing you have no regular antiseptic) make a loop
in it as for a reef knot, but pass the right hand end
of the thread twice around the
of once (Fig.
other, instead
193 —
surgeon's knot it will —
never slip). Slip this loop
Fig. 193.— Surgeon's ^^^^n over the forceps and

knot around the end of the artery,
and draw tight. If the vessel
bleeds from both ends, ligate both. When an
artery is merely ruptured, not severed, cut it clean
in two before operating; it will close better.
Nosebleed. —
If the nose does not stop bleeding
of itself, hold against the nape of the neck a cloth
wrung out in cold water. Put a roll of paper
between the upper lip and the gum. Do not blow
the nose nor remove the clots. Holding the arms
above the head will help. If the bleeding still
continues, dissolve a teaspoonful of salt in a cup
of water, and snnii some of this brine up the nose.
Should these measures fail, make a plug by rolling
up part of a half-inch strip of gauze or soft cloth,
AUCIUEJN lb AiSU IlMEKCjENCIES 451
push the plug gently up the nose with a pencil,
pack the rest of the strip tightly into the nostril,
and let the end protude. If there is leakage back-
ward into the mouth, pack the lower part of plug
still more tightly. Leave the plug in place several
hours; then loosen with warm water or oil, and re-
move very gently.
Internal Bleeding. — This may be either from
the stomach or from the lungs. In hemorrhage
from the stomachy the blood is vomited. It is brown
or "coffee-ground," and may be mixed with food.
There is tenderness and pain in the region of the
stomach.
Bleeding from the lungs is preceded by a saltish
taste in the mouth. Blood rushes from the mouth
and nose. It is bright red and frothy.
Although the disease producing one or other of
these symptoms may be grave, yet the attack of
bleeding itself is not likely to result seriously. In
either case the first-aid treatment is absolute rest
in bed, and cold cloths over the affected part. If
the bleeding is from the stomach, the patient's head
should be kept low; if from the lungs, the head
and shoulders should be propped up, unless there
be a tendency to faintness.
Cleansing —
Wounds. All inflammation of
wounds, suppuration, abscesses, erysipelas, *'blood-
poisoning," gangrene, and lockjaw, are due to liv-
ing germs and nothing else. These germs are not
born in the wound, but enter from the outside. We
may as well say they are present everywhere, ex-
cept In the air (pus germs do not float in air).
To prevent their entrance is much easier than to
kill them once they have gained foothold.
The only guarantee of a wound healing nicely is
to make and keep it surgically clean. Sterilize
everything that is to be used about a wound hands,:
instruments, and the dressing. Do not trust any-

thing to be germ-free merely because it looks clean.
The micro-organisms that cause inflammation of a
wound, fever, putrefaction, inay kirk anv where.
even in spotless linen fresh from the laundry, unless
killed by antiseptics.
Do not swab out a fresh wound, nor even wash
it; that would only drive germs deeper in. Simply
cover it with a sterilized dressing for the time being,
and cleanse it later with an antiseptic wash, if
need be. Plain water is likely to contain germs. If
it is necessary first to pick out hard foreign matter
that has been driven into the wound, do so with

an instrument sterilized by heat or by antiseptics, or
made from a freshly cut green stick.
Whenever practicable, shave off the hair for
some distance around the wound. Hairs, no mat-
ter how small, are grease-coated and favor the lodg-
ment and growth of germs. Shaving also scrapes
oft the surface dirt and dead scales of skin.
Closing Wounds. — Never cover a wôund with
court plaster. It prevents the free escape of sup-
puration, inflames the part, and makes the place
difficult to cleanse thereafter. Collodion should
be used only to cover small, clean abrasions of the
skin, protecting the raw surface.
The only legitimate uses for adhesive plaster are
to hold a compress in place where bandaging is
difficult, and, in case of a cut, to keep the edges
closed without sewing the skin. In the latter case,
after placing a narrow compress over the cut, the
wound may be drawn together by crossing it with
narrow but long strips of plaster, leaving spaces
between. A better way, by which I have nicely
healed some rather bad gashes, is as follows:
Lay a broad strip of adhesive plaster on each side
of the cut, half an inch apart, and extending beyond
the wound at each end. Stick these strips firmly
in place, except about a quarter of an inch of the
inner margins, which are left loose for the present.
With needle and thread lace the strips (deep stitches,
so they'll not pull out) so as to draw the edges
of the wound together, and then stick the inner
margins down, not covering the wound.
Sewing a wound should be avoided by inexperi-
enced persons, unless It really is necessary, as in
the case of a foot partly severed by an axe-cut. If

an ordinary needle and thread must be used (by nc
means an easy job) sterilize them by soaking io
a boiling solution of salt and water. (It is here
assumed that no better antiseptic agents are avail-
able. Sugar and water, or vinegar will do in a
pinch.) Do not sew continuously over and over,
but make a deep stitch and snip off the thread, leav-
ing enough at each end to tie with by and by. Re-
peat this at proper intervals, until enough stitches
have been taken; then, go back and tie them, one
after another, with surgeon's knot (Fig. 193).
Such sewing is easy to remove when the proper time
comes, say within about six days.
—
Punctured Wounds. To remove a splinter:
slip the point of a small knife-blade under the pro-
truding end and catch it with the thumb-nail; or,
use a needle sterilized in flame, or tweezers. Bits
of glass should be cut out, lest they break.
If a fish-hook is embedded in the flesh, never try
to pull it out backward. Push it through until the
barb appears, clip this off with nippers, and with-
—
draw. If you have no nippers, cut the hook out in
fact this is good treatment, anyhow, for the wound
then is open for antiseptic treatment, and will heal
without danger of festering.
A puncture from a rusty nail, or the like, should
be slit open so that your antiseptic Is sure to reach
the bottom. This hurts less than cauterizing, and
is quite effective. If a small punctured wound Is
not cut open, soak It in sterilized hot water, and
squeeze out as much as possible of the poisonous
matter that may have been Introduced. Never
cover a punctured wound with plaster or collodion.
—
Gunshot Wounds. If It is only a flesh wound
from a rifle or pistol, simply apply a sterilized com-
press and bandage It In place, being careful not to
touch the bullet hole with your fingers or anything
else unclean. When a bone Is broken, apply spllntr
If the bullet has not gone through, but Is deeply
embedded, let it alone ; the chances are that It will do
no serious harm. Never probe a bullet wound. Do
not pick out pellets of shot unless they are just un-
derneath the skin.
If bits of clothing have been driven Into the
wound, and they are not too deep to reach by a
little cutting, remove them ; the cloth Is almost sure
to be alive with germs.
When there Is extensive laceration, as from an ex-
panding bullet, or from a charge of shot fired at
close quarters, check the bleeding, apply an anti-
septic dressing, keep the patient still so as not to
renew bleeding, and treat for shock. No stimulants,
unless absolutely necessary to prevent collapse.
—
Bruises. Severe bruises should be treated
promptly by applying very cold water to the part,
if It can be obtained. A
cloth wrung out in very
hot water Viîll accomplish the same purpose, which
is to limit swelling, prevent discoloration, and re-
duce pain. "It always seems strange that the two

opposites —
cold and heat —
should have the same
effect on the blood-vessels, but this is actually the
case. . .Every one knows how shrunken the
.
hands look after they have been In hot water for

some time."
—
Sprains. ^These, too, may be treated with either
heat or cold. Perhaps the best way, before swelling
has commenced, is to Immerse the injured mem-
ber in very cold running water, or let cold water
drain on It from an elevated vessel. The joint it-
self, should be elevated, too. If possible. Keep this
up as long as you can stand It. Then dissolve
tablets of lead acetate and opium (directions on
bottle) In water, soak a cloth In it, bind round the
joint, and keep the cloth wet with the lotion.
If no treatment can be applied until the joint has
already become swollen and painful, then immerse
it in water as hot as can be borne, and raise the
heat gradually thereafter to the limit of endurance

(much hotter than you could stand at first). When
the pain lulls, change to an application of cloth
wrung out In very cold water, and keep pouring
cold water on as this warms up. A
little later,
strap the joint with adhesive plaster.
According to Gibnej-, the following treatment
for a sprained ankle "Involves no loss of time, re-
quires no crutches, and Is not attended with any
impairment of functions":
A number strips of rubber adhesive plaster,

of
about 9 to 12 inches in length and of appropriate
width, are prepared. Beginning at the outer border
of the foot, near the little toe, the first strip partially
encircles the joint, and ends behind the foot. The
second strip is begun on the inner side of the foot
and isapplied on the opposite side, nearly meeting
the strip behind.
first Other strips are applied in
like manner, each one over-lapping the last and
crossing its fellow of the opposite side in front, so
that the ankle is snugly and smoothly encased, care
being taken not to encircle completely the joint with
any one strip. After having bound the foot firmly,
it is well to add one broad strip, running around the
foot from the internal side of the leg down the in-
ternal side of the foot, across the sole of the foot,
and up the outside of the leg, "as much as possible
to take the place of the middle fasciculus of the ex-
ternal lateral ligament, which is so often the one
most injured." It is a good plan to place a pad of
absorbent cotton over the external malleolus [outer
knob of ankle] and in the depression below, to pre-
vent undue pressure and chafing. Any one of the
injured ligaments may receive a similar reinforce-
ment from an extra strip. Then apply a roller
bandage smoothly over the entire surface, allowing
it to remain until the plaster takes firm hold.
The pain of a sprained joint may be alleviated

by gently rubbing in a mixture of equal parts of
alcohol and water, or arnica, or witch hazel. Rub-
bing should always be toward the body.
—
Hernia (Rupture). This may result from vio-
lent exertion, over-lifting, or other cause. Have
the patient on his back, with a pillow or pad
lie
under his hips, and thigh drawn toward the body.
Tell him to breathe evenly and naturally. Gently
press the neck of the hernia back in line with the
middle of the canal through which it has descended.
If it does not return after a little manipulation, ap-
ply cold cloths for an hour, then try again. Do
not persevere long enough to set up inflammation. If
successful, cover with a pad tightly bandaged over
the groin. If not, keep the patient on his back
until medical help arrives.
—
Dislocations. If a joint is dislocated, or a
bone broken, don't grasp the limb at once and pull;
but first consider the anatomy of the injured part.
Rough and unskilled handling is likely to do more
harm than good.
Adislocation means that the head of a bone has
slipped out of its socket, probably tearing the liga-
ments, and has failed to slip back again as in a
sprain. Some dislocations, particularly of the wrist
or ankle, are hard to distinguish from fractures.
When you must operate on a comrade, go tq
work at once, before the muscles have become rigid
and the joint badly swollen. Should much diffi-
culty be experienced, do not persist in trying to get
the joint into place, but surround it with flannel
cloths wrung out in hot water, and support with
soft pads, until a surgeon can be found.
After a dislocation has been reduced, the joint
must be kept rigid with bandages or splints for a
considerable time, as the ligaments are weak and a
recurrence of the trouble is all too easy.
Three dislocations out of every four are in the
shoulder, arm, or hand, and among these, disloca-
tion of the shoulder Is most frequent.
Fingers.— Pull straight out away from the
hand. Generally the bone will slip into place.
Dislocation of the thumb is more likely to be
forward than backward. Press the thumb back-
ward and at the same time try to lift the head
of the bone into its socket. If you fail, after one
or two trials, go for a surgeon.
Wrist. — Fracture is more common than dislo-
cation of the MTist. If in doubt, treat as a fracture.
When there Is only a bone out of joint, It may be
replaced by pulling strongly upon the hand.
—
Elbow. Leave this dislocation tor a surgeon,
if practicable.Otherwise, have the patient sit on
a chair or log, and plant your foot against it. Place
your knee against the front of his upper arm just
above the bend of the elbow. Then, grasping the
bone of the upper arm with your right hand, and
the wrist with your left, forcibly bend the fore-
arm, using your knee as a fulcrum. If the dislo-
cation Is forward, however, pull upon the forearm
while the upper arm Is fixed. Your thumb can
assist In pressing the head of the bone in the de-
sired direction.Put the arm in a sling (hand
higher than elbow) and bandage it in place to
prevent movement.
Shoulder. —
About one-half of all cases of dis-
location are of the shoulder joint. Have the man
lie down flat on his back, and seat yourself by his
side, facing him. Remove your shoe, put your foot
in his arm-pit, grasp the dislocated arm In both
hands, push outward and upward with the heel,
and at the same time pull the w^rlst downward and
outward, then suddenly bring It against the pa-
tient's hip. When a snap Is heard or felt, the joint
is In place. Bandage the upper arm to the side,
with a thick pad under the arm-pit, forearm carried
across chest, and hand on opposite shoulder.
—
Lower Jaw. This dislocation must be reduced
Immediately. It looks serious, and alarms the pa-
tient, but in realitv Is very simple to reduce. Wrap
both of your thumbs In several thicknesses of cloth,
to protect them. Place them upon the patient's
lower back teeth, and press forcibly downward and
backward, while the fingers force the chin upward.
As soon as the jaw starts Into place, slip your
thumbs off the teeth Into the cheeks, to avoid being
severely bitten. Put a jaw bandage on the patient.
—
Hip. To reduce this dislocation Is a job for
nobody but a good surgeon.

Knee. —Try a strong, steady pull. If successful
apply a splint. There will be a great tendency to
inflammation, which is to be combatted with cold
applications, or lead and opium lotion.
—
Ankle. The patient lies down and bends his
leg to a right angle at the knee. Then he, or an
assistant, grasps his hands around the thigh and
pulls backward, while you pull the foot steadily
toward you. When reduced, support the joint
with a right-angled splint made by nailing two
pieces of board together in that position, one for the
foot and the other for the lower leg.
—
Fractures. If a bone is broken, and a surgeon
can be summoned within a couple of days, do not
try to reduce the fracture. Place the man in a
comfortable position, the injured part resting on a
pad, and keep him perfectly quiet. In lifting the
limb to slip the pad under, one hand should sup-
port the bone on each side of the break. Be very
careful that the flesh and skin shall not be cut
by the knife-like edges of broken bone, as such
after-injury may have serious consequences.
It may be, however, that 5ôu must act ?.s sur-
geon yourself. If the bone is broken in only one
place, and it does not protrude, the injury is not
serious. Get splints and bandages ready. Rip the
clothing up the seam, and steadily pull the broken
parts in opposite directions, without the slightest
twisting. Begin gently, and gradually increase
the strain. It may take a strong pull. When the
two pieces are end to end, an assistant must gently
work them till they fit. This will be announced
by a slight thud. Then apply splints, and bandage
them so as to hold the injured member immovable
while the fracture heals.
Bark, when it can be peeled, makes the best
splints for an arm or leg. Pick out a sapling
(chestnut, basswood, elm, cedar, spruce) as near
the size of the limb as possible. Remove the bark
in two equal pieces by vertical slits. These should
6e longer than the bone that Is broken, so as to
clamp the connecting joints as well. Cover the
concave insides with cloth, dr)^ moss, crumpled grass,
or other soft padding, to cushion the limb and pre-
vent irritation. The edges of splints should not
quite meet aroand the limb. Then get a long
bandage, about two inches wide. Having set the
bone, apply the splints on each side, and bandage
them firmly enough to hold in place, but by no
means so tightly as to impede circulation.
In default of bark, almost anything will do for
splints that is stiff enough to hold the parts in place
— barrel staves, thin boards, sticks, bundles of
rushes, etc. Pad them well.
If a broken in more than one place, or
bone is
if it protrudes through the skin, and you cannot
fetch a surgeon to the patient, then get him out

of the wôods at all hazards. The utmost pains
must be taken in transporting him, lest the sharp
edges of the bones saw off an artery or pierce an
important organ.
Transportation of Wounded. —A two-horse
litter better than a travois but if the latter must
is ;
be used, then make one shaft a little shorter than

the other, so that, in crossing uneven places, the
shock will not all come at one jolt.
"A travois may be improvised by cutting poles

about 16 feet long and 2 inches in diameter at the
small end. These poles are laid parallel to each
other, large ends to the front, and 2^ feet apart;
the small ends about 3 feet apart, and one ot them
projecting about 8 or 10 inches beyond the other.
The poles are connected by a crossbar about 6 feet
from the front ends and another about 6 feet back
of the first, each notched at its ends and securely
lashed at the notches to the poles. Between the
crosspieces the litter bed, 6 feet long, is filled in with
canvas, blanket, etc., securely fastened to the poles
and crossbars, or twith rope, lariat, rawhide strips,
etc., stretching obliquely from pole to pole in many
turns, crossing each other to form the basis for a
light mattress or an improvised bed; or a litter may
be made fast between ^he poles to answer the same
purpose. The front ends of the poles are then se-
curely fastened to the saddle of the animal. A breast
strap and traces should, if possible, be improvised
qnd fitted to the horse. On the march the bearers
should be ready to lift the rear end of the travois
when passing- over obstacles, crossing streams, or
going up-hill." {U. S. A. Hospital Corps.)
An emergency litter can be made of two coats and

two strong poles. Turn the sleeves of the coats
inside out. Place the coats on the ground, ends
reversed, bottom edges touching each other. Run
the poles through the sleeves on each side. Button
up the coat, and turn the buttoned side down.
Another way is to spread a blanket on the
ground with the two poles at the edges of its long
sides. Then roll the edges on the poles till a
width of about 20 inches is left between them. Turn
stretcher over before using it.
An excellent litter is a big trojjgh of heavy bark,
padded or lined with browse, and attached to a
frame swung between two poles.
Always test a stretcher before placing a patient
upon it. Do not carry it upon the shoulders, ex-
cept as the rear man does so in going up a steep
place. Keep it level. Carry the occupant feet
foremost, unless going up-hill. The bearers should
walk out of step, to avoid a jolting motion.
Two men can carry one, if he is conscious, very
comfortably by forming a ''two-handed seat." Num-
ber I grasps with his right hand the left wrist, and
with his left hand the right shoulder, of the other
bearer. Number 2 grasps with his left hand the
right wrist, and with his right hand the left shoul-
der, of No. I. The injured person is seated on his
comrades' crossed fore-arms, and throws his own
arms over their shoulders.
One man can carry another across his back, even
though the stricken one be insensible, and a heavy-
weight at that. Turn the patient on his face.
If he is conscious, tell him to relax (m.ake himself
limp). Step astride his body, facing toward his
head. Lean forward and, with your hands under

him to his knees. Then, clasping
his arm-pits, lift
your hands over his abdomen, lift him to his feet.
Immediately grasp his right wîst with your left
hand, draw the arm over your head and down upon
your shoulder.
left Then, shifting yourself in
front, stoop and clasp the right thigh with your
right arm passed between his legs, your right hand
seizing the patient's right wrist. Finally grasp the
patient's left hand with your left, steady it agains<-
your side, and rise.
Burns and Scalds
apply cold.
—
First exclude the air and
If 3'ou are near a running stream of
water, plunge the burnt member in it. This is all
that is needed in ordinary cases. A
good emerg-
ency treatment is to make a thick lather of toilet
soap, smear it over the burn, and apply a bandage.
A standard remedy is common baking soda (not
washing soda*). Dissolve some in as little water
as is required to take it up; saturate a cloth with
this, and apply, covering the burned area closely,
and keep the dressing wêt with the solution. Car-
bolized vaseline, resinol, unguentine, plain vaseline,
or almost any clean and unsalted grease or oil
are good applications. Or, make a thin paste of flour
and water, smear it on the burned part, and on
the cloth used for covering. In lack of anything
else, moist clay or earth will do if the skin is un-
broken.
If clothing sticks to the burn, do not try to re-
move It, but cut around and flood with oil or water.
Prick blisters on two sides, with a needle sterilized
in flame, and remove the water by gentle pressure.
In case of shock, give a stimulant and apply heat
to the extremities. When
the destroyed flesh of a
deep burn softens and begins to slough, hasten Its
removal by hot applications and cutting the loose
ends away with scissors.
'Baking soda is the bicarbonate washing soda, or plain soda,

;
is the carbonate; do not confuse them.

Rescue from Fire. Tie — a wethandkerchief
over your nose and mouth. If unable to breathe
when erect, crawl with head as low as possible. If
the clothing catches fire, lie down and roll over
slowly, beating out the fire with the hands or
smothering it with earth. When rescuing another
person whose clothing is aflame, throw him down
and do the same, or wrap him as tightly as possible
in a blanket, coat, or the like, leaving only his head
out. Woolens do not burn with a flame like cot-
ton and linen.
—
Frostbite^ Freezing. In extreme cold, let each
member of a party watch the others for the white
spots that denote frostbite. These should be rub-
bed with a woolen mitten or glove, rather than
snow. If the freezing is severe, so that the tissues
are stiff, rough rubbing and twisting may break
them. The return to warmth must be gradual, as
a sudden reaction is dangerous to the vitality of the
parts. Keep out in the cold, rub the frozen surface
gently with snow, or ice-water, until the natural
color of the skin is restored.
To toast frost-bitten fingers or toes before a fire
would and thawing out
at least bring chilblains,
rapidly abadly frozen part would result in gan-
grene, making amputation necessary. When cir-
culation is restored, rub with kerosene, whiskey, or
alcohol and water. This will keep the skin from
peeling off. In case the frostbite Is old and
blackened, or the skin has begun to slough off, treat
it just as you would a burn.
When In danger of freezing to death, compel

yourself to keep awake and moving. If there are
two or more of you, beat each other unmercifully
with sticks. To sleep Is death. Do not drink liq-
uor: the reaction from It Is likely to be fatal.
In rescuing one who is almost insensible from
cold, take him Into a cold room. Rub his limbs
toward the body to restore circulation, first wnth
rough cloths wet In cold water, then In warmer an(i
warmer water, finally with alcohol and water.
Heat the room gradually. As soon as he can swal-
low, give him a stimulant.
If the patient has stopped breathing, use arti-
ficial respiration (see Drowning), for several
hours if necessary. While one person is doing this,
another must keep up the rubbing and massage.
"Instances are on record of recovery after several
hours of suspended animation,"
—
Chilblains. If unbroken, rub lightly with
diluted alcohol, whiskey, or alum water. If broken,
apply boric acid or an ointment. The Red Cross
treatment is: 'Taint every two or three days with
tincture of iodine pure or diluted with alcohol.
Several coats of collodion at intervals of a fe^v
days are also good, as the collodion exerts consider-
able pressure on the dilated blood-vessels."
—
Corns. "Hard corns should never be cut, but
should be rubbed down smooth with sandpaper after
washing the skin. They should then be covered
with a corn plaster or a piece of adhesive plaster.
Cutting a corn, if you get below the hard skin, is
likely to prove very dangerous, as it often results
in blood-poisoning.
"Soft corns should be treated by careful washing
and drjang of the foot, especially between the toes,
then dusting in a little talcum powder and keeping
the toes separated by a small piece of gauze."
{Red Cross.)
—
Ingrowing Toe-nail. Toe-nails should al-
ways be cut straight across; rounding off the cor-
ners is one great cause of the complaint. piece A
of tinfoil, doubled or trebled, may be inserted be-
tween the granulations and the nail and all kept
dusted with boric acid.
—
Chafing, Blisters. See Page 140.
—
Boils. These come from infection of the hair
follicles. Hot antiseptic poultices will help draw
the boil to a head. I am aware that the practice
of poulticing boils and felons Is discredited by many

authorities; but this, I think, due to the
is chiefly
fact that a poultice as commonly made is an Ideal
—
breeding-ground for germs. That can be prevented
by the addition of a good non-irritant antiseptic.
The advantage of a poultice over a fomentation
is that it holds the heat longer, and so does not re-
quire constant renewing. Its function is to bring

the pus near the surface where it can readily be
opened. Deep lancing entails more risk of general
infection, besides being dangerous in the neighbor-
hood of large blood-vessels.
As soon as the first evidence of pus appears, open
the boil with a thin blade that has been held for a
moment in a flame to sterilize it. Cleanse both
the cavity and the adjacent skin with a strong anti-
septic, and cover with a sterilized dressing, to be
renewed frequently. Press out the core as soon
as it will come.
If the least trace of pus is allowed to remain on
the skin, there is danger that other hair follicles may
be infected, from which a crop of boils would result.
Abscess, Felon. —Treatment is similar to that
of a boil, but, after an abscess has been opened and
cleaned, a strip of sterilized gauze should be light-
ly packed in the opening to afford drainage and keep
the wound from closing prematurely. This drain
should be renewed twice a day, with thorough anti-
septic cleansing all around. The pus is deadly.
Be careful that none of it gets on your skin or
an3^thing else but the fire where it belongs.
Ivy Poisoning (Poison Oak, Poison Sumac).
We have three species of plants that secrete an
oil which poisons human beings (no other animals)
by contact. Most virulent of these is the poison
sumac or "poison elder" {Rhus vernix), which is
distinguished from other sumacs by bearing a white
fruit like thin clusters of very small grapes, and
by its leaf, the edge of which is smooth instead of
notched.
The so-called poison ivy(Rhus toxicodendron)
is from the harmless Virginia creeper
readily told
bv having three leaves, instead of five, and from
the wild bean vine by its lack of conspicuous flowers
and pods. There are two varieties: one with a
smooth-edged leaf, and the other (rarer) with
toothed edges. By some it is called poison vine;
by others, poison oak. The lattername should be
reserved for Rhus diversilobaj which does not grow
east of the Rocky Mountains.
All three of these
plants are really sumacs, notwithstanding that the
"ivy" creeps on the ground, or climbs trees, walls,
or fences, like a true vine.
When poison ivy is in bloom, the spores of its
pollen are blown hither and yon by every breeze,
and those minute spores bear some of the poisonous
oilthat makes the plant an enemy of the human
race. That is why people who are particularly
susceptible may be poisoned if they go within ten
feet of the plant.
The poison is of an acid nature; consequently if
one rubs his skin with an alkali (such as baking soda,
weak ammonia, soap, or wood ashes) before hand-
ling the plant, or immediately after doing so, he
will be uninjured. Usually one is not aware that
he has come in contact with such a plant until
the sj^mptoms of poisoning appear. As soon as his
skin reddens and begins to itch he should wash in
strong soapsuds, and then with alcohol. Generally
this will suffice. It he lets the case go until little
watery blisters appear between the fingers and in-
flammation sets in, he must use stronger measures.
The druggist's prescription is: Add powdered
sugar of lead (lead acetate) to weak alcohol (50%
to 75%) until no more will dissolve; strain, and
wash the affected parts with It several times a day.
A camper is not likely to have this remedy at hand.
It is a dangerous poison if swallowed.
Common baking soda, so often mentioned In this
book, is more be available.
likely to Dissolve as
much of In warm water as
It the water will take
up, and apply. A
similar solution of boric acid
is even better. Aftenvard rub some reslnol or
other good ointment over the affected narts.
I have cured cases of Ivy poisoning that wet-e
two or three days old, where both eyes were swelled
shut and other parts correspondingly affected, with
applications of the tincture of grindelia. But what
acts as a specific in many instances may do little
good in another. Edward Cave recommends "boil-
ing a dime's worth of cardamon seeds (capsules
with seeds in them) in a pint of water, for a bad
case, and applying the 'tea' thus made as a lotion
when cold. The more frequent the application the
quicker the remedy." Another cure, that is highly
praised by J. S. McGehee, is three parts olive oil
and one part carbolic acid. If this does not
redden the skin a little, he adds more of the
acid, very gradually, testing until ft "nips." Two
applications, eight or ten hours apart, generally
cure. This, of course, would not be safe to use
over a large surface.
—
Foreign Body in the Eye. As I do most of
my roaming alone, I usually have in my pocket a
tiny mirror with which to help myself if a "red
pepper" gnat flies into my eye, or something else
of the sort happens, when I am miles from help.
If a foreign body lodges beneath the lower eyelid,
there is little or no pain; but if beneath the upper
lid, or if embedded in the eyeball, a man is quite
out of action until the thing is removed. If the
offender cannot be seen, it is probably under the
upper lid. When a man is alone, the best he can
do in such a case is to pull the upper lid over the
lower and hold it so until the tears have a chance
to wash the irritating particle away. Close the
nostril on the other side, and blow your nose hard.
Do not rub the eye, for that might embed the thing.
In examining another person's eye, first have
him look up while you press the lower lid down.
If the particle is under the upper lid, have him
sit down with head bent backward. Stand behind
him, place a match across the upper lid half an
inch from its edge, and turn the lid up and back
over the match.
After a foreign substance has been removed, a
few drops of olive oil or castor oil will soothe the
eye. l1iis is tlie best treatment, too, if tliere is
a splinter that you are unable to remove by care-

ful picking.
The best wash for inflamed eyes is boric acid
in as water as is required to dissolve it.
little
—
Snow Blindness. This "is an inflammation of
the eye due to the reflection of intense light from
the snow. There is blindness, flowing of tears,
the whites of the eyes are bloodshot, the lids swollen,
Often a pus discharges from the eyes, which is
highly contagious and when brought into contact
with, healthy eyes is liable to transmit the disease.
Treatment of snow blindness:
1. Apply cold cloths which have been on ice
or wetted in cold water. Do this for half an
hour three times a day, changing the cloths as they
become warm.
Several times a day hold the eyelids open
2.
when lying down and pour into them a stream of
cooled water which has first been boiled.
3. At night smear the lids and eyelashes with
some pure salve to prevent them gluing together
while asleep.
Prevention of snow blindness:
The North use eye-covering?
natives of the far
which narrow
entirely shut out the light except a
slit through which they see. Some use smoked
glass goggles while still others smear their faces
with grease and lampblack to break the glare. It
is common among mountain climbers to use actors'
grease paint for this purpose. In the Winnipeg

region of Canada there are used "horse hair" gog-
gles which are superior to any other protection to the
eyes in snow work. They are made entirely of
hair woven in a loose mesh, convex over the eyes.
I would advise anyone traveling In the North to
provide himself with them in preference to glass,
which is coated with frost at every change of tem-
perature, is always cold to the face, and is liable
to be broken." {Outing.)
Insect in the Ear. — "Hold a brip;ht light to
the ear. The fascination which a bright light has
for insects will often cause them to leave the ear
and go to the light. If this fails, pour in warm oil
from a teaspoon, and generally the intruder will
be driven out." (Pilcher.)
Earache. —Let
the patient hold his head to
one side at a right angle. Heat a spoon, pour al-
cohol into it, and hold close under the head so
that the fumes will enter the ear Or, heat olive
oil just hot enough not to burn, put a few drops
in the ear, and follow with a small plug of cotton.
Earache often is relieved by a bag of hot salt, or
the like, as described below for toothache.
The following is recommended by H. W. Gib-
son: ''Take the heart of an onion, heat it in an
oven, and put it in the ear, but not so hot as to
burn. This not only relieves the earache, but
helps to send the sufferer to sleep."
—
Toothache. If there is a cavity, clean it out
with cotton on the end of a toothpick then fill ;
it with another small bit of cotton dipped in iodine,
oil of cloves, or ammonia, or dusted with baking

soda.
"Toothache, scourge of the wilderness, he cured
in a novel way. With a thread and a sheet of
writing paper he made a cornucopia, the open end
of which he placed flat upon a dish he then set
;
fire to the upper end of the cornucopia, whereupon
the burning paper generated a drop of yellow liquid.

— —
This liquid it is extremely bitter he applied, with
a toothpick and cotton, to the cavity, and the tooth-
ache perished amid the howls of the possessor of
the tooth." {A, W. North.)
Probably the yellow liquid is largely creosote. I
have seen my partner treat his own tooth this way.
If there is no cavity, but an abscess, it may some-
times be checked by applying to the gum a counter-
irritant, such as spirits of camphor on a pledget of
cotton, or a bit of doug;h in which red pepper
has been mixed, or by painting it with tincture of
iodine. Asmall cloth sack partly filled with hot
salt, rice, or sand, and placed under the patient's
face as he lies in bed is effective in many cases.
THE END.
—
INDEX TO VOLUME II
Abscess, 464 B a rk .
Continued.
Abysses,. 343 kettle, 257
To descend, 351 roofs, 221
Accidents, 422 rope and twine, 264
Acorns, To make edible, shelters, 221
371 tray, 262
Aiming a 176
rifle, troughs, 261
"Lead" 182
in, tub, 261
Uphill and downhill, 184 utensils, 256
Where to hold in, 183 water bucket, 260
Alcoholism, 428, 434 Barking trees, 22^
Almaj»»ac, 96 Base lines, 38
Alone. See Going alone Baskets, Splits for, 269
Angler's knots, 293 Bast rope and twine, 264
Animals as food, 416 Bathing," 100
Ankle, Sprained, 142, 455 Bear hunting, 51, 173, 185
Antiseptics, 424 oil, 331
Anti-venom serum, 441 Skinning a, 303
Apoplexy, 428, 434 Beathing wood, 212
Arteries,. Ligating, 450 Bedding, 101, 144
Arts, Lost, 58 Extemporized, 30, 31
Axe, Care of, 193 Bed-tick, 102
Choice of, 187 Beds, Browse, 220
Grinding, 187, 188 Bee baits, 356
Short, 144 huntin.g, 354
Axe-heive, Making, 187 Bees, Cross-lining, Z60
Removing broken, 187 Flight' of. 360
Axemanship, 187 Bee-hives, 361
See alsoChopping, Tim- Robbing, 362
ber hewing, Tree Bee-trees, 362
felling Beeswax, 366
Benches, 252
Back-packing. 97, 143 Berries, 393
Bait Fish, 409 Beverages, Woodland, 399
Bark as food, 420^ Big game shooting, 173,
'176
as sign of direction, 56
Clip, 262 See also Bear hunting,
dipper, 262 Deer hunting-
fish bucket, 263 Bird skins, 307
470
—
INDEX 472
Biscuits. See
Hardtack, Cabin. Continued.
Meat biscuits chimneys, 238, 245
Bites of animals, 446 chinking, 248
of insects, 448 corners, 240
See also Snake bite fittings, 248
Bivouacs, 27, 32 floor, 244. 249
Blanket packs, 118 joists, 242
roll, 118 Materials for. 239
Blazes. 26, 35, 41, 60 Timber for. 240
Age of, 61 walls, 242, 249
See also Line, Following windows, 245, 250, 320
a See also Roofs
Bleeding. 448 Caches, 229
Internal, 451 Camp-fire, 149
Blisters, To
prevent, 140 Smoke from, 31, 101
Treatment of, 140 See also Fire, Bivouac
^'Blow-downs," 44 Camp plan, 230
Blow-guns, 14 Camps, Masked, 232
Boards, See Clapboards Candles, To make, 333
Boatswain's chair, 287, 352 Candlesticks, 333
Boiling in bark kettle, 257 Canebrakes. See Lost
in trough, 257 Canned food. Objections
Boils, 463 to, 107, 162, 170
Bones, Broken, 458 Canteens, 133
Book-learning. 16 Cape, Waterproof, 99
Bough beds, 220 Cartridges for rifles, 180
Bouillon cubes, etc., 164 Catgut, To make, 317
Brain, Concussion of. 433 Cave districts, 339
Bread substitutes, 163, 371 exploration, 337, 347
Brooms, 255 measurements, 351
Browse beds, 220 "sign," 338
To pick, 220 Caves, how formed, 340
Bruises. 454 Cavern, Lost in, 21
Brides, 44 Caverns, 337
Buck ague, 185 Cellar, 232, 239
Buckets, Aluminum, 103 Cements, 327
Bark. 260, 263 Chafing, 105, 140
Buckskin, To make, 309 Chairs, 251
To select, 309 Split-bottom, 252
Bullets, Rifle, 180 Cheesecloth, Uses of, 103
Bunks, 248, 250 Cherokee Indians, 13
Burns, 460 Chilblains, 463
Burnt-woods, 44 Chill, To avoid, 141
Bush marks, 41 Chimnej:, 238, 245
Butter, 166 Chocolate, 166
Chopping, 189
Cabin, Axeman's, 248 See also Timber
i. building, 236 Circle, Traveling in a, 35
472 INDEX
Citric acid, 167, 170 Direction, Sense of, 50 52
Clapboards, 206 Signs of. See Guide-»
Clothing, 99, 144 posts, Nature's
Coffee, Substitutes for, 399 Dislocations, 456
Cold as first-aid treat- Distance, Allowance for^
ment, 428 in shooting, 176
"Combinations," 131 Estimating by eye, 86
Common, Disregard of by sound, 87
the, 50 by time, 44, 86, 88, 95
Compas§, Care of, 70 Measuring with line, 91
in camp, 70 Pacing, 84
Selection of, 69 See also Measuring
Use 69
of, 35, 36, 43, Ditty bags, 104
Variation of, 72 Divides, Use of, 45
Compass-plants, 57 Doors, 244, 249
Concealment. See Caches, Dressings for wounds,
Masked camps 424, 426
Concentrated foods. See Drinking on the march,
Foods 141
Condiments from wild Dripstone, 347
plants, 400 Drowning, 429
Conifers, Tips of, 56 Rescue of the, 431
Convulsions, 435 Drunkenness, 428, 434
Cookinsf kit. Individual,
102, 112, 114, 115 Kar, Insect in, 468
on the march, 145, 147 Earache, 468
Copperhead snake, 438 Edible twild plants, 14,367
Cordage^ Root and vine, Eggs, Dessicated, 166
266 Eiderdown. See Quilts,
Corn, Parched, 150, 155 Sleeping bags
Corner marks, 68 Equipment for trips afoot,
98, 104, 105, 108, 144,
Corns, 463
145^
Corseaiix^ 264
Emergencies, 403, 422
Course, Keeping a, 71 Emergency kits, 28, Z7^
Cramp, Muscular, 141 103, 423
while swimming, 432 Emergency rations. See
Cycling kits, 110, 112, 114 Foods, Concentrated
Emetics, 426
Deer hunting, 176, 180, Epilepsy, 435
181, 184 Erbswurst, 157
See also Buck ague Exploration, 80
Delirium tremens, 435 Eye, Foreign body in, 466
Depth, To measure, 95
Dessicat.ed foods. See Fainting, 432
Foods, Concentrated Fats as food, 166
Diagnosi<5. 428 Featherweight kits, lOS
INDEX 4.73
Feet, Care of, 139 Glaze, 165
To toughen. 139 Glue, To make, 327
See also Chilblains, Gluts, To make, 202
Corns. Toe-nails Going alone, 21. 147, 181
Felons, 464 light. 98, 109
Fire, Bivouac. 29. 31 Graining knife, 311
making without Great Smoky Mountains,
matches, 32 13, 24. 51
precautions, 29 Ground sheet. Ill, 113
Rescue from, 462 Guideposts, Nature's, 49,
Fire-drill. 33 53
Fireplace, 238, 245 Guides. 16. 181
First-aid, 422 Celestial. 48. 76, 78
for snake bite, 443 Gunshot wounds, 453
kits. 103. 423
materials. 423
Handcuff knot, 291
fish bait, 409 Hardtack, 163
bucket. Bark, 263
Hatchet,. 32, 144
skins.To mount, 326 Haversacks, 122
Fish-hook, To extract. 453 Head, Skinning a. 298, 300
Fishing for the pot. 408
Heat as first-aid treat-
rod. Extemporized, 213 ment, 428
Fits, 435
exhaustion, 434
Flavoring, See Condi-
Height, To measure, 93,
ments 95
Flour, Prepared, 107
Hernia, 455
Fog. See Lost
Hewing. See Timber
Food bags. 107, 171 Preparation
Hides, of,
Foods. Concentrated, 150,
303
162
Footwear, 139, 146 Hiding. See Caches,
Fording. 45 Masked camps
Forest, Sameness of the, Hiking, i'f^' Trips afoot
49 Hitches. 271
travel, 43 Hitching tie. 286
Foot -logs, 44 Hobnails, 350
Fractures, 458 Homing instinct, 50. 52
Freezing, 462 Hominy mortar, 154
Froe, Use of. 208 Honey, Poisonous, 365,
Frogging. 415 Wild, 364
Frostbite. 462 Hoops, 269
Fruits as food, 169 Horn cup, 328
Dehvdrated, 170
Huntsman's, 329
Wild. 393
Wôrking in, 328
Frying-pan. 102
Furniture, Rustic, 250 Hot-water bottle, 134, 135
Furs, Preparation of, 298, Hunter's equipment, 145,
304 maxims 180

474 INDEX
Hunting, 180 Lean-to, Bark, 223
Going alone in 148, 181 Brush,. 218
What to look for, 181 Frames for, 219
See also Bear hunting, Log, 227
Deer hunting Slab, 225
Hydrophobia, 446 Leather, Lace, 316
Hysteria, 435 Whang, 315
See also Buckskin, Hides,
Indian camp, 216 Pelts, Rawhide,
tanning, 310, 324 Skins, Tanning
Indians as pathfinders, 21 Leveling, 95
as pedestrians, 136 Ligating arteries, 450
Skill in wildcraft, 58 Lights. See Candles,
In extremis, 420 Lamps, Lanterns,
Insect bites and stings, Torches
^
448 Line, Following a, 62
Instinct of direction, 50, Lumberman's, 64
52_ Surveyor's, 64
Iron rations, 157 Trapper's, 63
Ivy poisoning, 464 Lines, Township and sec-
tion, 66
Jam as ration, component, Liniments, 426
168 Liquor, Carrying, 134
Jerked vension, 155, 161 Litters, Extemporized, 460
Living off the country, 403
Kinnikinick, 401 Locality, "Bump" of, 50,
Kits, Cooking, 102 52
Cycling, 110, 112, 114 Log camps, 227
First-aid, 103, 423 Logs, Notching, 241
One-man. See Equip- Lonesomeness, 15, 148
ment Lost, Getting, 19
Knapsack, Military, 121 in canebrakes, 21, 24
Miniature, 104 in cavern, 21
Norwegian, 126 in flat woods, 22, 23
Tourist, 127 in fogj 37, 52
See also Pack sacks in hilly country, 22, 24
Knots, 271 in overflow country, 22
in snowstorm, 31, 37, 63,
Lace-leather, 316 462
Lamps, Slush, 332 in thickets 24
Landmarks, 88 To avoid getting, 20, 37,
See also Pathfinding 38, 40, 71, 97
Lanterns, 348 What to do when, 25
Extemporized, 334 See also Living off the
Lashings, 289 country
Laurel. See Thickets Lotions. 426
Lay of the land, 26. 34 Lutes for vessels, 327
See, also Pathfinding Lye, To make, 336
INDEX 475
Mad animals, 446 North, To See Corn-
find.
Magnetic variation, 72 pass. Guide-posts
Maple sugar and sirup, 397 (Nature's), Mcri-
Mapping-, 89 dian
Maps. Scale 84 of. "North-and-South plant,'*
Topographical, 37 58
Marching. See Feet, Notice,. What to, 50
Thirst, Trips afoot Nuts a§ food, 167, 372
Marksmanship in the
woods. 173 Oil, Bear's, 331
Masked camps, 232 Gun, 330
Match boxes. 349 Rattlesnake. 331
pouches, 108 Ointments, 426
Matches, Waterproofed, Orientation, 50
108 Outfits^ for bee hunting,
Maul, To make a, 201 . ^^^
Measuring inaccessible J^'" ^^Y^ ^^P^°^^'^tA°"';liS
distance, 92 ^^^ ^^''
n4'l45°°'' '
inaccessible height or
Overflow' country. See
depth. 93 Lost
Measurements, Extempor- Over-strain. 138
ary, 90 Ox-gall, 319
Meat biscuits, 164
dessicated, 157, 161 Paces of animals. S7
extracts, 165 Pacing distances. 85
"straight," 152, 167 Pack baskets, 131
frames, 132
Membranes, 318
Tvr -J' u i ^77 harness. 119
Meridian by pole 1
star, 77
^^^^^ -^27
by shadow 76 Combination. 131
by watch. 76 Duluth. 129. 145
Milk powder, 108 Nessmuk, 128
Moccasin snake, 438 Whelen, 130. 145
Mortar, 247 See also Knapsacks,
Mosquito bar, 101 Rucksacks
Moss, Growth of, 53. 55 straps,. 123,128
Mountain climbing, 141 Packing. See also Rations
Mushrooms, Edible, 387 Packs for pedestrians. 118.
Poisonous, 436 -.^"^ ., . ^ .p..
Mustard plaster, 428 5''*"^"^'''i.°^99° I9i
Hang of. 99, 122, 124,
125. 126, 133
Nails, 108 ^ Panic, 20
Nature's guide-posts, 49 Parchme'nt. To make, 319
Nectar, 357 Translucent. 320
Night lines, 414 Parfleche. 315
Nosebleed, 450 Paste, 327
^76 INDEX
Pathfinding, Z1 60 , Rifle, Accuracy of, 177
See also Trailing Ammunition for, 179
Pedestrian trips. See Choice of, 179
Trips afoot Running shots with, 182
Pedometers, 86 shooting. 173
Pelts, Preparation of, 298, sights, 175
304 Snap-shooting with, 183
Pemmican, 156, 166 Trajectory of, 177
Pillow, Air, 112 Right angle, To set out a,
Pillo.w-bag, 102 92
Pinole. 150 River, Width of, To meas-
Pits. See Abysses ure, 93
Plants, Edible wild, 367 Riving timber. See Clap«
Plasmon, 163 boards
Plasters. 428 Robes. Indian-tanned, 324
"Point-blank'" sight ad- Rockahominy, 150
justment, 176 Roofs. Bark, 221, 248
Poison ivy, 464 Canvas, 248
oak, 464 Clapboard, 243
siimaCj 464 Paper, 237
Poisoning, Ivy. 464 Plank, 237
Mushroom, 436 Scoop, 226
Ptomaine, 435 Root and vine cordage,
Pole star, To find, 7S 266
Poncho, 99 Ropes, Bast. 264
Pot-herbs, Wild. 369, 381 See also Riata
Poultices, 427, 463 Rough travel, 43. 121
Primus stoves, 115 Roughing it, Folly of, 146
Provisions, Caching, 229 Route sketching, 80
Ptomaine poisoning, 435 Rucksacks. 123
Puncheons, 201, 204 Norwegian, 126
Rupture, 455
Quicksand, 45, 47
Quilts, Eiderdown, 114, Saccharin, 169
117 Salads, Wild, 369, 381
•Salt, Carrying, 107
Rabies, 446 Substitutes for, 400
Raisins, 167, 170 Sawing, 193
Ration lists, 106, 146, 172
"Sawyers," 240
packing, 170
Scalds, 461
Rations,. Emergency. See
Scoop roofs, 226
Foods, Concentrated
Rattlesnakes, 439
Seasoning wood, 212
Oil of, 331 Serum, Anti-venom, 441
Rawhide, To make, 314 Set lines, 414
Resins, 199 Shaving-horse, 210
Respiration, Artificial, 430 Sheepshanks, 91, 286
Riaâ. To make a, 316 Shelter cloths. 100
INDEX 477
bhelters. 215 Southern Highlanders. 13.
Natural, 28, 31 14
Shingles. 210 Splicing. 292
Shock, 433 Splints. 458
Shooting. Sec Rifle Splits. 211. 269
Sights, Rifle, 175 Splittin^g, See Clapboards.
Signal halyard hitch, 91 Splits, Timber
Signalling by shots, 30 Sprains, 454
by smoke, 26 Stalactites and sialag-
Signs of direction. See mites. 346
Guide-posts, Nature's Still hunting. 180
Sinew, 318 See also Deer huntings
Sirup, Maple, 397 Stimulants, 425
Skin stretchers, 303, 307, Stings, 448
314 Stools, 252
Skinning pelts, 299 Storehouse, Secret. See
Skins, Fleshing, 322 Caches
Smoking, 313 Stoves, 249
Softening, 312, 323 Vapor, 112, 114, 115
Stretching, 303 Straddle-bug frame. 217
Tanning, 321 Streams. Crossing, 44
Slab camps, 225 Stretcher-bed, 101
Sleeping-bags, 144 Stretchers for wounded,
Eiderdown, 112 460
Sleeping out, 27, 34 Stretchers, Skin, 303, 307,
Slings, 287 314
"Small deer," 416 Stunning, 433
Smoke from camp-fire, 31 Suffocation, 432
101 Sugar, 167
signals, 26 Sugar Maple. 397
Snake bite, 436 Sun, To find, on cloudy
Herbal "remedies" for, _
day, 48
445 Sundialj To make, 96
Treatment of, 443 Sunstroke, 433
Snake skins, To tan, 325 Surgeon's knot, 273. 450
Snakes, Venomous, 437 Surveys, Modern, 65
Snaring fish, 408 Old, 65
game^ 404 Suspenders, 105
Snow blindness, 467 Sweets, 167, 397
Melting, in bark
Symptoms, 428
Snow,
vessel, 260
Tables, 248, 251
SnoÂ^storm. See Lost Tanning, 321
Soap making, 335 Indian, 310, 324
Socks, 139 Target shooting, 173
Solitude, 15, 148 Tea tabloids. 171
Sound, Velocity of, 87 Teas from wild plants, 399
Soups, Condensed, 164 Teepee, Bark. 223
478 INDEX
Tents, Featherweight, 111, Study of, 49
113, 116 To p_eel, 221
for hiking trips, 104 See also Axemanshipj
Silk, 113 Woods
Thickets, 24, 43, 44, 52 Trips afoot, 97, 118. 143
Thirst, To relieve, 141 See also Equipment
Thongs^ Cutting and splic- Trophies, Preparation of,
ing, 316 298
Thread, Bast, 265 Trot lines, 414
Sinew, 318 Tump 119
lines,
Tilt, Bark, 222 Tump or head-band, 121
Timber for cabin building, Twine, Bast, 265
240
Bending, 213 Unconsciousness, 428
Hewing, 200 Utensils, Bark, 256
Seasoning, 212
Splitting, ,201 Vegetables, Dehydrated,
Time, 96 170
Tobacco, Substitutes for,
Venison, Jerked, 155
401 Venom, Snake, 436
Toe-nails, Ingrowing, 463 Vertigo, 432
Tomahawk. See Hatchet Vinegar making, 400
Tomahawk shelters, 215
Tools for cabin building,
238
Walk, How to, 136
Walking trips. See Trips
for hiking kit, 103
afoot
Toothache, 468
Washstand, 251
TorcheSt 335
Wattled work, 224
Tourniguets, 443, 449^
Township and section Way, Fjndmg the. See
Pathfinding
lines, 66
Wedges, Wooden. See
Tracking, 27
Gluts
Trail m.aking, 40
Trailing, 27, 62
Whang leather, 315
Whistles, 108
See also Pathfinding
Concealment of, Wikiups, 224
Trails,
Wildcraft, 18
235
Wind-breaks, 29, 31, 217
Trapping. See Snaring
Windfalls, 44
Travois, 459
Tree, Height of. To meas-
Winding rods, 292
ure, 93 Windows, 245, 250, 320
Trees, Annual rings, 56, Withes, 268
61. 203 Woodcraft. 13, 16, 50, 52,
"Board," 204 56. 150

Felling, 190 Wood, Bending, 21.'^
Identification of, 49 Hewing, 200

Lines of cleavage, 203 Seasoning, 212
Logging up. 192 Splitting, 201
—
INDEX 479
Woods, Close-grained, 199 Woods. Continued.
Compact, 197 Qualities of. 194
difficult to season, 198 Resinous, 199
difficult to split, 196 Soft, 195
Durable, 198 Springy, 197
easily split, 196, 204 Stiff, 196
easily wrought, 197 Strong, 195
Flat. Sec Lost Tough, 196
Flexible, 197 See also Trees
for special purposes, 200 "Woods sense," 52
Woods, Hard, 195 Woodsman't gait, 136
Heavy, 200 Wounded, Transportation
in wide boards, 198
of, 459
liable to check, 198
liable to warp, 198
Wounds, 448
Light, 200 Cleansing. 451
not liable to check, 197 Closing. 452
Perishable. 199 Gunshot. 453
Pliable, 197 Punctured, 453
nil I
n

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-LEAD TP Tt?;t-U'. HON

From the collection of the

San Francisco, California

OUR SOUTHERN HIGHLANDERS

AMKIICAN CAMPING ASSOCIATION

Two Volumes in One

Eighteenth Printing, 1957

All rights reserved —

Printed m the United States of America

w^ill agree with me all around in matters of equip-

to his comfort, health, and happiness is the very

first thing that another will throw into the trail.

A man's outfit is a matter which seems to touch his

criticise his patent water-bottle he will fall upon

but the raw materials that lie around us.

author this pendant to his work.

V Tents for Shifting Camps 68 . .

VI Types of Light Tents 76 , . .

VII Light Camp Equipment 109 ^ . .

VIII Camp Bedding 124

XV Dressing and Keeping Game and

To many a city man there comes a time when the

to tarry where he lists, to do this, or do that, or do

Thus basking and sporting in the great clean out--

" Forget six counties overhung with smoke,

unsanitary surroundings; overcrowding and bad air

he would sleep, nor even when he Is sick he can ;

starve to death with supreme complacency." A

missionary says: " It would be easy to raise in

China an army of a million men —

eleven and a half months cannot as wtU work the

dren to swarm together in cities and stay there, keep

lions of a landlord, nor will he suffer himself to be

that he enjoys and as fo" that, all the wild parts of

the earth are his, by a title that carries with it no

meek and ignoble bearing, fields of grain are

wild. It is not the clearing but the unfenced wil-

The charm of nomadic life freedom from

care, its unrestrained liberty of action, and the proud

There Is a dash of the gipsy In every one of Uk

In some of our large cities there are professional

the confidence of the lone sailorman, who whistles

speaking only of such purchases as might be thought

sentimentalism, but that pure, intense, though

but he who lies continually on her breast and is

proportion of city men who do thoroughly enjoy the

who can find plenty to interest them in the woods

at all. But if you cannot afford this expense, then

civilization, and start an experimental camp, spend-

TENTS FOR FIXED CAMPS

of the genuine Tartar." When speaking of a camp

Fig. I.— Wall Tent, with Fly

It Is a trade custom to list tents according to an

ground dimensions art* governed by the number of

sizescommonly used by campers. These sizes apply

36-inch stuff, or some other width, is used, propor-

STANDARD WALL TENTS.

A group of small tents around a common campflre

as when some wish to sleep and others want

as soon as it gets wet hence the guy ropes must be

" 8-ounce " weight is really about 6-ounce, it3